Carpe Noctem
by White Mage Koorii
Summary: KaiShin, Vamp!Fic// A late night, a lonely road, and an old manor house in the woods: It's a classic horror story set up, but, of course, that sort of thing doesn't happen in real life.
1. Arrival

**Pairing(s): **KaiShin (What else?)  
**Warnings:** Au, Vamp!Fic, Sexual Situations, Blood, Some violence, Male/Male Relationship.

**A/N: **Halloween treat for all my KaiShin readers, and most particularly for the folks of the KaiShin Army. This is a **Mini Series** and is going to be around 6 or so chapters long. I only have, like, two more chapters to write and its complete. I'll be uploading every few days or so.

Also, you should note that, in this series, Kaitou Kid doesn't exist, and Shinichi never ran into the Black Organization.

Do enjoy.

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**Arrival**

* * *

The car gave a particularly hard rock, bouncing so hard that the shocks couldn't absorb all the movement, and sending Shinichi's forehead to collide, none too gently, with the glass of the window. Giving a low sound of annoyance under his breath Shinichi brought a hand up to cup his abused head, turning a sharp, blue eyed, glare on the driver. Hattori, however, was paying no attention to him.

From the back seat a small sound of pained annoyance drifted forward, followed by Toyama-chan's annoyed, "Heiji! You idiot, watch where you're driving."

Shinichi sighed, his breath puffing warmly against the heel of his palm. His eyes drifted away from Hattori, knowing his annoyed glare would never get through the idiot's thick skull.

"Ahou! I _am_ watchin' where I'm goin'. I can't control the fact that this road is so bad!"

Calling the _track_ a road was a massive understatement. It was barely more than two dirt ruts with a median of tangled grass and weeds; just enough for a car to still pass through comfortably, though the occasional branch scraped the hood, or slapped at the doors and windshield. They had quite the collection of broken twigs and leaves stuck in the windshield wipers by now.

He dearly hoped that Hattori didn't manage to damage the car too much, or the rental place was likely to have a fit.

"Kazuha-chan?" Ran's voice interrupted, magically stopping an argument before it could get started. "I dropped my cell phone, down by your feet, could you get it for me?"

"Eh? Oh, sorry Ran-chan. Hold on."

It was pitch black, the headlights flickering over a small area ahead of them as the car continued to rumble and jolt along, rocking and jumping in bursts that were quickly serving to aggravate the headache Shinichi had already been nursing for the past few hours. Being trapped in a vehicle with Hattori and Toyama wasn't conducive to his sanity by any stretch of the imagination.

"You're not going the right way," Shinichi deadpanned for the fiftieth time in the last twenty minutes.

Hattori dared to rip his eyes away from squinting at the road ahead to glare at him, "I told you I checked the map. This'll get us there in half the time."

Puffing out his cheeks, Shinichi breathed out an exasperated sigh. It tickled his palm again. There was just no arguing with the idiot when he got it into his head that he was right. Well, unless Shinichi was ready and able to give him proof. Maybe he should do just that?

Freeing his hand from beneath his chin, Shinichi leaned forward slightly, the seat belt digging into his sternum uncomfortably, and fished in the glove box for the map he knew was there. Pulling it out he pulled the flimsy piece of paper apart, then fumbled in his pockets for the pen light he knew he kept there. Clicking it on, he clamped it between his teeth and spread the map out between himself and the dash. His focus, however, didn't cause him to miss the way Hattori rolled his eyes.

Shinichi ignored him, fingertip tracing over routes even as his eyes read names and numbers to go with them. He had just found where they'd turned onto this... road... when a particularly rough bump made him lose his grip on the pen light. It fell onto the map, rolling down, the light spinning across them, then fell to his jean clad thighs and bounced to the floor.

Sending another deadly glare toward Hattori, Shinichi leaned down, fingers stretching and feeling, to retrieve it. When he picked it up, the thing was dark. "If this is broken, you're getting me a new one."

Hattori snorted in amusement. "I got that one for you for your birthday a couple years ago anyway."

A light touch on his shoulder had Shinichi looking back into Ran's worried face. "We're not lost are we?" she asked in a whisper, one hand cupping along the side of her face in an effort to keep Hattori from hearing.

Shinichi had no such compulsions. "I wasn't able to see. If I had been driving this wouldn't have happened."

"Yer not allowed to drive," Hattori interjected forcefully. "Not after that incident last year."

Ran tried to cover a laugh, but failed miserably and took Toyama-chan with her. Really, it wasn't Shinichi's fault his mother had insisted on teaching him how to drive, and, really, it _had_ saved him from an ungodly death by moving truck, so he wasn't going to complain.

"I can't help it if you're terrified of my driving," Shinichi shot back. "Though you're just as bad on that motorcycle of yours."

"And this is a car, not a motorcycle."

"Really? I hadn't noticed. What would I do without a spectacular detective like you, Hattori-kun!"

A light smack on his shoulder from Ran was all the retribution he'd get, and Shinichi knew it. He could hear how amused the two girls were over their bickering. With another shuddering jolt, Hattori brought the car to a halt. "Which way?"

"Isn't there a sign?" Toyama-chan asked.

"Give the girls the map, and let's have a look."

Giving Hattori an annoyed look Shinichi complied anyway, and handed the map back to Ran, though he pocketed his pen light, and unbuckled his seat belt. Shoving open the door Shinichi stepped out, leaving it ajar. The small sounds of complaint from the still humming vehicle a background noise to the general silence of the woods.

Musky scents of wood, plants, and loam reached his nose, accompanied by the smell of wet and rain. Though there were no signs of wet in the area, he could only guess it meant there was some coming in. It certainly was too dark to be a clear night.

Ignoring Hattori, who was taking his sweet time stretching and making a fuss about having to be cramped in the car so long, Shinichi ambled along the side of the car and around the front. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Shinichi slowly turned his head, taking in the fork in the road, and what of the divergence the headlights illuminated.

It really was oddly quiet, though a cool, almost chill, breeze was rustling through the treetops like a whisper. No night birds chirped, nothing moved. There was a strange tenseness to the silence, almost expectant, as if it were waiting, asking, to see which way they would choose.

Shinichi felt it was exceptionally odd for a choice in what road you needed to take to feel like you were choosing your destiny, to feel like a life and death choice.

His footsteps drew to a halt before one of the forks, and Shinichi found himself gazing down it absently. Squinting, he tried to pierce the heavy darkness with his gaze. The shadows seemed almost thicker down that way, almost drawing, looming, wanting to drag him in and keep him there.

"Kudou!" Hattori's voice snapped him out of it, and Shinichi scoffed quietly.

He had obviously spent too much time watching American horror movies lately if his mind was playing these kinds of tricks on him. Shinichi fully blamed Hattori on this. The idiot was obsessed. "Did you find something?"

"Yeah, there's a sign over here, but it's kind of covered."

Rolling his eyes in annoyance Shinichi pulled his hands out of his pockets and trotted over to Hattori's side. The Detective of the West was halfway into the bushes at the convergence point of the two roads as he tried to drag the creepers off a dilapidated wooden sign.

Rather than help, Shinichi stood watching Hattori's rather futile efforts to drag the overgrown vegetation off the sign enough to make it legible. "I don't get why the locals haven't taken care of it," The Osakan detective growled in annoyance.

Shinichi snorted derisively, "I'm pretty sure this 'road' has been completely forgotten, and anyone who does use it probably knows it well enough that they don't _need_ a sign."

"They should still do a little maintenance," Hattori grumbled stubbornly.

"Shinichi?"

Turning away from Hattori's continued attempts to unveil the sign, futile as they probably would prove, Shinichi wandered back toward the car. Leaning down he peered into the warm glow of the car's interior lights. "What's the matter Ran?"

Ran looked up at him, worry hovering hazily in her eyes. "I can't find the road we're on."

"Pass the map over and I'll have a look."

Crouching down on his heels Shinichi spread the map over the passenger seat, tracing the lines of the roads with quick precision as he went. It didn't take long to come to the same conclusion Ran had: According to the map, this road didn't exist. He was never letting Hattori drive again.

"Hattori."

The detective in question was walking back toward them, dusting bits of leaf matter off his hands and shirt. "Whatever that thing used to say, it isn't legible anymore. I couldn't see anything, at least."

"Hattori."

"We'll just have to get goin' and hope we're goin' the right way. Maybe we'll run across a residence or somethin'. I mean _someone's_ gotta live out here right?"

"_Hattori!_"

Hattori turned and looked at him, looking faintly baffled by his vehemence, and Shinichi sighed. "You've managed to get us abysmally lost. This," Here Shinichi paused to gather up proper derision and distaste for the word, "road, isn't even on the map. I don't even know how you got us to this point."

"What? Sure it is, I saw it. Look." Hattori walked around the side of the car, wavering slightly as he picked his way along the underbrush clustering at the verge, and leaned over Shinichi to jab at the map, the paper indenting and crackling beneath his fingertip. "See, right there."

"We might have started out on that, but you obviously made a wrong turn somewhere. We're around here." Circling a nebulous area without any real delineation with his finger, Shinichi tilted his head back and glared at the Osakan. But before he could snipe at the other any further, an annoyed growl cut in.

"I can't believe you," Toyama-chan snarled. She was halfway into the front seats, and scowling rather pointedly at Hattori. The hand she wasn't using to balance herself was pointing at her friend over Shinichi's head. "When we get out of this I'm goin' to tell yer mother that you can't even read a basic map. I'm sure she'll have so many things to say about that!"

"Give it a rest, Kazuha! It's dark, how was I supposed to know I'd made a wrong turn?"

"Ahou! You'd think that since yer some great detective you'd be able to drive down a simple road, but no! I think that yer only great in yer own mind!"

Getting sick of the two arguing over his head, and the way Hattori was leaning and looming over him so he could yell right back at his not-girlfriend, Shinichi slugged his elbow backwards into Hattori's knee. Hattori yelped, arms flailing to keep his balance, before he toppled backwards into the bushes behind him.

"Move it, Hattori." Straightening up Shinichi folded the map and tossed it on the dash. "Let's just pick one and go. Hopefully we can find a place to stop and get some directions."

Toyama-chan subsided back in her seat with a slight huff, arms crossed over her chest. Ran gave him a faint, sympathetic, smile. Returning the smile with a slight quirk of his lips, Shinichi slid back into his seat just as the first, fat rain drop splattered against the windshield.

Just what they needed.

Hattori waited for him to slam the door closed so it was easier to get through, then hurried around to the driver's side of the car and climbed in. "Which way? I thought I saw some lights off that way."

Looking along the fork Hattori was pointing, Shinichi recognized the one that had given him that rather creepy feeling earlier. He wanted to protest, badly, but pride made him hold his tongue. _Ran_, after all, was the one with the fear of all things supernatural. Shinichi, the Great Detective of the East, the Heisei Holmes, was far too logical for that. He was the one who sat blandly through all those gory films and dissected the impossible kills into the pretentious cinematic foolishness they were for the girls while Hattori laughed at the idiocy of it all.

Shinichi snorted and settled back into his seat, snapping the seat belt in place again. This wasn't a horror film, no matter how much it felt like the perfect premise for one. "Do whatever you want."

Ignoring the look he was getting, Shinichi turned his head to gaze out the window again as more raindrops pattered against the glass. He was pretty sure Hattori was just trying to figure out what was wrong with him, since he was no longer putting up a fight.

The car lurched as Hattori maneuvered it down the left fork, sending them deeper into the darkness and shadows. Shinichi's eyes scanned the heavy blackness of the forest out his window, eyes tracking blankly before catching. He could swear he'd seen something, a faint outline, a glimpse of white.

Shaking his head, he turned away. Obviously he was more tired than he'd realized. The clock on the radio said it was around ten at night. They should have been there _hours_ ago.

He really was going to strangle Hattori for this later.

They bounced onward, silence encompassing the interior of the car as the rain continued to pick up. Hattori eventually switched on the wipers, and, despite the rough ride, Shinichi could feel himself beginning to nod off. Ran and Toyama-chan had already dozed off, leaning against each other.

"See!" Hattori's brisk exclamation brought him right out of the fog he had fallen into, and Shinichi shot him a glare. His eyes felt gritty and sore. "I told you this was the right choice!"

Flicking his gaze up, and ignoring the urge to rub his eyes, Shinichi blinked away the lingering fuzziness of his drowsy state. There, ahead of them, in the blackness, loomed small, symmetrical, points of light: Windows.

Hattori slowed the car, easing along the road at a snail's pace as they pulled up alongside a set of wrought iron gates, looking extremely out of place. They stood open, vines and creepers tangled around them with a single minded determination to hide them away fully. The plants were starting to succeed. The posts on either side of the gate were made of large blocks of stone that were quickly being overrun by moss and too many other plants to properly identify.

Carefully, Hattori maneuvered the car through the gap and crept up the driveway, almost as if he wasn't sure if he ought to be driving up here.

Shinichi's eyes swept over the facade of the large western-style manor house. It reminded him a bit of home, really. Warm light spilled out of the large picture windows lining the ground floor, creating patches of light on the dark lawn. It couldn't be more than three floors, with maybe an attic as well. The eves were high and angled, giving it a rather jagged roof, and, as they edged up the long slightly curving drive, he could see that there were two additional wings.

Hattori brought the car to a halt in the small cul-de-sac before the front door. Overgrown hedges lined the far side before fading back into a lawn that ran down to the verge of the forest. The sound of doors clicking open alerted him to the fact that Hattori had shut the car off, and he and the girls were already climbing out.

Undoing his seat belt, Shinichi eased the door open and stepped out, standing with one hand resting on the upper curve of the door. Sliding his eyes over the looming house, he took in the drawn draperies in some of the windows: Most of the ones on the upper floors were closed. Stepping away from the car he shoved the door closed with a quiet slam.

Ran sidled up behind him, her hands clasping the material of his shirt at the shoulder. He could feel her breath, warm against his skin, as she leaned in close and whispered, "This place is so creepy."

He didn't dare tell her he agreed, couldn't understand _why_ he did. That denial, and the fact that he stopped himself from thinking about it, didn't quell the way the hair on his nape and arms was standing on end. It didn't stop the fact that he felt like he was being _watched. _

Glancing up at the front of the manor again, Shinichi could swear he saw previously still curtains twitch.

The feel of water splashing against his face reminded him that, though the rain may have lightened a bit, it was far from finished. Glancing back over his shoulder at his cowering friend, Shinichi murmured, "It's just a house. You used to think my place was creepy too."

The girl smothered a snicker, but didn't let go. "You told me you'd never let anything happen to me in your house, that's why."

"Well, I'm here aren't I?" he grumbled, refusing to blush.

"Are you two love birds comin' or not?" Hattori barked.

Slanting the Osakan detective an annoyed look, Shinichi shot back, "You're one to talk, Hattori."

Grinning like a loon, Hattori nudged Toyama-chan. "But, see, he didn't deny it did he?" Hattori pitched to the side a second later as something collided with his head before thumping to the ground. "What the hell? Kudou! Did you just throw yer _shoe_ at me?"

Blushing furiously, and not bothering to dignify that with a response, Shinichi walked awkwardly across the gravel to the Osakan pair and grabbed his shoe from where it had fallen. Dusting off the bottom of his sock clad foot, he tugged it back on. "Shut up, Hattori."

"Nice shot, Kudou-kun." Toyama-chan praised. Ran was trying valiantly to smother her laughter, while Hattori continued to give him an extremely scandalized look.

Ignoring the three of them, Shinichi tapped the toe of his sneaker against the ground to settle it, then, hands shoved in pockets, stalked toward the short set of stairs leading up to the double doors. There was neither a doorbell, nor any other way of letting their presence be known, so he merely grabbed the loop of a large brass knocker. Pausing a moment, he eyed the effigy: A pair of brass doves appeared to be holding the part in his hand between their beaks.

He snorted softly. What had he been expecting to see? An Oni? Obviously Ran's nerves were rubbing off on him.

Rapping the handle against the sturdy wood a few times he waited, somewhat impatiently. Behind him he heard Hattori groan. "The rain's startin' to pick up again..."

It seemed to take an eternity, but it couldn't have been more than two minutes, before the door opened with barely a sound. Shinichi once more had to refrain from rolling his eyes at himself. Why did the perfect normality continue to surprise him? He was obviously more tired than even he'd begun to believe. To be honest, he was starting to wish he'd just decided to stay home.

An older man blinked at them in surprise from behind a pair of round glasses. "More guests? What a surprise. Please, come in, come in."

The man stepped aside, bowing in greeting as the four of them trooped in, stopping to toe off their shoes in exchange for slippers. Once he'd straightened back up, Shinichi allowed his gaze to rivet on the large foyer they'd stepped into. From the corner of his eye he could see the girls greeting the old man and introducing themselves.

The foyer itself was rather rich in appearance: A chandelier hung aloft, above the middle of a room that extended all the way up two floors, not counting the ground floor. A large, sweeping staircase curved down the left side of the room, with a landing on the second floor, and a second staircase carried on upward, curving, this time, along the right side of the room and ending above their heads somewhere. Balconies wrapped around ahead and to either side of them with hallways leading off. It was both opulent, and understated. The dove motif seemed to have carried on into this room, and even the banister had a pair of them carved on the post at its base.

"Do you live here alone, Konousuke-san?" Shinichi heard Ran ask. "This is such a big house..." Judging from the slight exasperation and sadness in her voice she was no doubt thinking of Shinichi's penchant for inhabiting the Kudou manor all alone.

"No, not at all. I live here to keep an eye on the young master."

Shinichi glanced back at the old man. Young master?

"Don't make it sound like such a chore, Jiichan," an amused voice spoke up. All eyes were drawn to the second floor landing where a young man, no older than Shinichi or Hattori, had appeared. He was dressed, oddly, in a white suit coat and pants, even gloves. It was unusually formal attire, and the fact that it was mostly all _white_ was so odd... His skin was just as pale as well. Shinichi wondered how often the guy got out of the manor. The tone of his skin would indicate not often.

The boy began to descend the grand stair case, one white gloved hand resting on the banister and trailing along it with each perfectly paced step. He was like a showman, playing perfectly to the small audience they provided. Shinichi wanted to roll his eyes, turn away, deny him the audience he so obviously craved, but, as the boy met his gaze, he couldn't seem to turn away.

He felt a bit disjointed really, like fog had settled around his brain. A muzzy sort of floating that left his body standing there while he drifted off to the side. Nothing to worry about, everything was fine, the world seemed to say. His vision blurred as if he'd let his eyes go out of focus, but even still that gaze bore into him. Enchanted, enthralled, he didn't have a choice. Then, the boy looked away, sweeping his attention over the others as he paused at the base of the stairs, his hand resting, almost fondly, atop the carving of the doves.

"What do I owe the pleasure of so many guests?" Their white dressed host asked. "I hadn't been expecting even one, and now I've five of you!" Smiling a thin lipped smile that almost seemed to invite them to share in the joke, he raised his arms into the air with a flourish of his gloved hands and pronounced, "My name is Kuroba Kaito, and I welcome you to my home!"

Dazed, Shinichi blinked, not really comprehending what was going on around him. He felt dumb, numb, and at a loss. With a rising mixture of nausea and guilt he also realized he kind of missed the pleasant buzz that had been so tight around him before. Giving his head a harsh shake he pushed all of those thoughts from his mind: It had only been fatigue, and it had to be very bad fatigue, at that, if he was beginning to fall asleep on his feet.

It was only then that he realized, with a jolt, that the boy looked almost exactly like him. It was like looking in a strange and twisted mirror.

"–ri Ran, and this idiot is Kudou Shinichi." Shinichi blinked in confusion as Ran's voice penetrated his thoughts. "I'm afraid we got lost and were hoping you could give us some directions?"

Kuroba-san cast a slight smirk his way, but didn't glance at him otherwise. "Is that so? Well, why don't the four of you stay here for the night? There's no reason to venture further at this hour, and any town is still quite distant."

"So long as we aren't imposing..." Toyama-chan murmured.

The white dress boy merely smiled at her, that strange closed lipped smile of his, and said, "Jiichan? Would you prepare rooms for our guests?"

The old man bowed and murmured, "Of course, young master."

"Hey, Kudou," Hattori called. "Come on. Let's go get our stuff before it starts pourin' again."

Sighing through his nose, and making sure Hattori heard his annoyance in full, Shinichi turned away from the weird boy, and stepped back to the entry way. Stepping out of his slippers, he reached down and tugged his shoes on, tucking the laces in alongside his ankles rather than bother tying them. A moment later he followed Hattori back out into the cool rain, goosebumps rose on his skin as the droplets pattered against his face.

Ahead of him, Hattori trotted over to the car and yanked open the trunk. As soon as Shinichi reached his side the Osakan detective handed over two of the small overnight bags the four of them had chosen to pack. They weren't planning to be gone long after all, just a few nights. All they'd really brought was a few changes of cloths and a couple other necessities.

Still, Hattori lingered for a second as if making sure that he had everything, but Shinichi knew that wasn't it. Finally, his friend's sharp green eyes swung up, piercing him with a thoughtful gaze. "Don't you think there's somethin' weird about–"

"How Kuroba-san was dressed so formally when he wasn't expecting guests?" Shinichi answered, voice low. He looked back over his shoulder at the house. "It could just be a quirk, but something..."

"Somethin's weird about this, right?" Hattori asked, even as he slammed the trunk shut. It was such a sudden, final, sound that it almost made Shinichi jump out of his skin. Hattori stepped up beside him, glaring hotly at the manor house. His hair was limp from the wet, and Shinichi could feel his own fringe sticking to his forehead. "Watch the girls. I don't trust that guy."

Shinichi snorted. Like he needed someone to tell him that?

The two of them started back toward the house, when, after a moment, Hattori murmured, "I dunno, this sounds weird but, Kudou, I could swear somethin' _brought_ me here, y'know? Like, I wasn't going to go this way originally, but for some reason I decided to anyway."

A chill swept down Shinichi's spine, and he suddenly was overcome with the urge to get Ran and Toyama-chan and beat a hasty retreat, run away, and leave this tantalizing mystery for someone else to poke at. It was such a foreign feeling that he quashed it without a second thought. Instead he said disdainfully, "You've been watching too many horror films."

Hattori laughed, sounding relieved that Shinichi seemed to think he was being an idiot for once. "Yer probably right."

As the two of them stepped back inside, removing their shoes and shaking the rain off their arms, they found that the old man, Konousuke-san, had reappeared. Konousuke-san offered them a towel each. "Just set your bags there," he said kindly, pointing. "I'll take them to the rooms I've prepared, after I return you to your friends. The young master has taken them to the dining room."

Accepting the offered towel, Shinichi roughly ran it over his hair, before wiping the worst of the rain off his skin. While parts of his cloths were sticking to him, they were already starting to dry again. It hadn't been too bad out there, but it was enough to be annoying. Wrinkling his nose he, followed after Hattori and Konousuke-san with barely a thought, only stopping to blink at his reflection in one of the windows they passed.

With his hair tousled from the toweling he looked even more like their strange host. Scowling faintly, Shinichi settled the towel around his shoulders and began to run his fingers through his still slightly damp hair in an attempt to tame it back into his usual strict style.

"There you are," a voice spoke up directly behind him. Shinichi twitched, subduing the base reaction to jump, and finished what he was doing before he turned around. Kuroba-san stood behind him, looking thoroughly amused. At this distance, Shinichi could now see that Kuroba-san's skin tone wasn't just _pale_, it was, in fact, slightly jaundiced. He wondered if he should suggest that he get that checked out. Jaundice was usually a sign of other underlying medical conditions after all. "Your friends were beginning to wonder where you'd gotten to, so I came to find you. Come along now."

Without waiting for a response, the strange boy turned and began to make his way down the hall. Shinichi couldn't figure out how he had managed to sneak up on him. Normally even the quietest person made _some_ sort of sound while walking on hard wood flooring. Frowning down at the floor for a second, Shinichi followed after him, his eyes watching the boy's back suspiciously.

It was only as they passed another window that Shinichi wondered why he hadn't seen Kuroba's reflection in the window. The glass had been dark enough that he could see his own almost perfectly. Before he could give the thought too much attention, Kuroba-san stepped through a doorway, the double doors already open, and cheerfully proclaimed, "I found him preening like a vain little peacock before one of the windows."

"Shinichi!" Ran sighed."You idiot! Don't worry us like that!"

"What could happen?" he asked rhetorically, getting an annoyed glare for his troubles. They all knew that Shinichi was well acquainted with what could happen in the worst kinds of ways.

Dragging his attention away from Kuroba-san, Shinichi glanced over the dining room. It was large, with a main table that could seat far more of them than were in attendance, and elegantly decorated. Feeling eyes on him, Shinichi turned his head to find Kuroba-san smirking faintly at him.

The boy reached over and took the towel he still had, then walked toward the table, dropping it into Konousuke-san's hands as he went. "Do join us, won't you? So that we may all be properly introduced, and have a late meal?"

Scowling faintly, Shinichi moved stiffly toward the table to take the seat between Ran and Hattori, across from an unknown blond haired individual.

* * *

**FINAL NOTE: **Jaundice is a condition where the skin gains a yellow coloration thanks to a lack of bilirubin. Apparently it can be caused by increased rate of breakdown of red bloodcells, and considering he's a vampire, he digests red blood cells, ergo a faint case of Jaundice when he hasn't fed for a time.

Don't know if I got my medical stuff right, and frankly I don't care. Its not like I actually extensively researched for this.


	2. First Bite

**PLEASE NOTE: This chapter contains mature content (Male/Male Sexual Situations with Dubious Consent) toward the end. If you are uncomfortable reading it, you have been warned. **

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**First Bite**

* * *

The staff who brought out the food, and set the dishes before them, were all extremely silent. They didn't speak a word from the moment they entered the room to the moment they left. Even then, Shinichi could hear no chatter from beyond the room as they came and went. It was like watching some eerie ritual put on mute. The only sound was the soft conversation carrying on between Kuroba-san and Toyama-chan, who was sitting closest to him.

Hattori, Shinichi noticed with some amusement, was watching Kuroba-san like a twitchy guard dog. The glower on his face might have sent a lesser person packing, but their strange host seemed as though he hadn't even noticed it, or, if he had, was merely ignoring it. Toyama-chan had certainly noticed, if the fact that she kept elbowing Hattori in retaliation was anything to go by.

Shinichi sighed as Hattori gave another slight grunt when he was caught in the ribs by Toyama-chan's elbow again, and gave the woman setting his food before him a wan smile. She didn't even blink, nor really look at him; simply went about her task and left.

Ran shifted uncomfortably beside him. "Shinichi?" Giving a noncommittal sound to show he was listening, Shinichi continued to eye the rather well made foreign dish before him. Some sort of pasta, it looked like, with very fine noodles. It smelled good, at least. "Isn't this a bit... weird?"

Sending his childhood friend a bland look, Shinichi muttered, "We're not in one of Hattori's stupid movies, Ran. Trust me, there's nothing to worry about."

The girl sent him a slightly shy smile. "Sorry, I just don't like..."

"I know." Shinichi well knew that the only thing that could _ever_ make Ran _meek_ was the supernatural. She could break concrete with her bare hands, but make her deal with spooks and bogeymen and Ran turned into a terrified little girl. It was almost funny, really, but Shinichi would never let _her_ know that. He liked living too much. "But you're right; there is something odd about this place." A sudden razor smirk slid across Shinichi's face, his eyes lighting up like they always did when a particularly tantalizing mystery presented itself. "A well kept manor in the middle of nowhere, with a large staff, a formal host, and all apparently well off enough to present us with high class foreign dining."

She was looking at him oddly, a pensive expression and a slightly wistful smile on her face. "It's... good to see you like this again, Shinichi." Ran murmured.

Frowning, Shinichi went to ask her what she meant, when a soft, lilting voice cut across the conversation, "Tell me, Kudou-kun, what are the four of you doing out here?"

Shinichi tilted his head, eying Kuroba-san curiously. The boy had just been deep in conversation with Toyama-chan, he could have very easily asked her that question, or even Hattori. They were both aware of why they were here, after all. Still, Kuroba-san was watching him with a lazy half-lidded look, his cheek resting against his knuckles, and his lips pulled into an enigmatic smile.

"Hattori and I were called out, for a case," he found himself saying, not at all sure _why_ he was doing so. "Unfortunately Hattori has the sense of direction of a blind ox."

"Kudou!" Hattori yelped, finally turning away from their host to send him a hurt glare. "That isn't true."

"Yes it is, Ahou," Toyama-chan sniped. "Yer _always_ gettin' lost. Unless you have a straight path, a compass, and a map, you couldn't find yer way out of a bag!"

"We were planning to stop at the nearby beach for a few days while they worked," Ran added over the background sound of the Osakan duo's renewed arguing. "Kazuha-chan and I that is, and if they managed to wrap the case up in time we'd all have some time to spend together."

The boy hummed something, but Shinichi thought it rather obvious that he had stopped listening almost as soon as Ran had begun talking. What was odder _still_, Shinichi noted with narrowed eyes, was that their host didn't have _anything_ set before him. Kuroba-san sat at the head of the table, looking perfectly at ease, eyes skipping over them with some faint amusement, as if they were little more than quaint entertainment. Though, Shinichi noticed, he seemed to be ignoring Ran's existence completely, and, in fact, seemed almost _unsettled_ by her.

He didn't even have so much as a _drink_.

Turning his contemplation away from his food and their host, Shinichi let his gaze fall on the other stranger. Blond and apparently with foreigner parentage, he, much like Shinichi himself, had been watching Kuroba-san with a hawk-eyed stare. Leaning toward Hattori, Shinichi nudged his friend slightly and whispered, "Who is he?"

Hattori followed his gaze toward the unknown boy and shrugged before muttering his reply, "He introduced himself as Hakuba Saguru. He's a real prick, though."

Shinichi rolled his eyes, and let out a soundless sigh. He really didn't think he wanted to know. "Is there a point to this Hattori?"

The Osakan detective shrugged faintly, "Nah, he was here when we got here. Obviously he's the other surprise guest Kuroba was talkin' about, but other than that? I got nothin'. All he's really done is sit there, though when we got here he opened his mouth and–"

Drowning Hattori out as his friend descended into a group of slurring rants, and swear words that Shinichi would actually have to pick apart to fully understand at that point, Shinichi turned his attention to Kuroba-san once more, just in time to see the weird boy produce a wine red rose from thin air and presented it casually to Toyama-chan.

Toyama-chan gasped, bringing her hands together in a single clap of surprised happiness. "Wow! How did you do that?"

"Magic, of course," Kuroba-san purred happily. "For you."

The Osakan girl grinned, and took the rose, carefully, before bringing it to her nose to take a delicate draw of the flower's scent. It was, however, snatched out of her grip by Hattori. The other detective glared at it for a moment, turning it around in his fingers before tossing it carelessly over one shoulder.

"HEIJI!"

Hattori frowned at Toyama-chan. "What? It's not like you need any stupid flowers!"

"What if I _wanted_ a flower?!" Toyama-chan snarled. "In case you haven't noticed, I _am_ a girl here! At least Kuroba-kun isn't a complete ahou like you!"

"If you want stupid flowers so bad then we'll get you some when we get home! It's not like it would survive anyway!"

For a moment the girl looked stunned, but it was a pleased kind of stunned. Shinichi doubted Hattori even realized what kind of implications that kind of offer could have behind it. Honestly, Hattori was one of the most oblivious people he'd ever met. Many people said the same about him, it was true, but he was well aware of what was between him and Ran. He just didn't do anything about it. There was a big difference between being unaware, and willfully ignoring something.

Making her usual quick recovery, and defaulting straight to anger, the girl snarled, "That's not the _point_, you idiot!"

Fighting off the urge to bang his head on the table beside his half eaten meal, Shinichi did his best to tune the argument out. Still, glancing at the pair from the corner of his eye, he contemplated what would happen if he shoved Hattori toward her. It wasn't the first time he'd thought about it. Either they'd get so embarrassed they'd shut up, or someone would end up dead. Either way, he'd be one headache less.

It was only because Hattori moved slightly that Shinichi became aware that Kuroba-san was watching him. His skin prickled in a way that both uncomfortable and enthralling, like a drug; bad, but addicting in all the wrong ways that made it feel just right. Caught in the lazy violet gaze, Shinichi felt like a mouse pinned beneath an owl's talon. Only this owl wasn't quite ready to devour him, and so he was left alive to contemplate what would happen to him.

He felt like a toy, a play thing, and he couldn't escape the feeling, almost wasn't sure he wanted to. The cloying fog from before teased the edges of his mind, and he felt himself relaxing in spite of himself. He swallowed, almost convulsively, past a dry mouth and a too slick throat. Endorphins flooded his system en masse, almost as if someone had reached into his brain and tickled all the right pleasure receptors to immediately send him into first throws of growing arousal.

Shinichi gripped the arms of his chair, hips twisting and lifting slightly of their own accord. Biting the inside of his cheek, he fought back a sound that wanted to escape at the weird, sudden influx of desire that _shouldn't_ be there. He was used to his hormones being inclined to react to whatever they wanted; he wasn't that old, after all, but _this_... this was _insane_. He'd never had his body go so completely _haywire_ on him before.

Then as suddenly as it had come, the weird feeling dissipated, flowing out like sand, slow and steady, and leaving him breathing hard through his nose. No one else seemed to have noticed, except for Kuroba. The white dressed boy was staring at him in a way that was so _amused_ it left no doubt that he had played audience to the entire thing, like he understood far better than Shinichi what had just occurred.

Shinichi flushed, whether from embarrassment or annoyance he wasn't sure. If he were honest it was probably both, and maybe something else he wasn't willing to admit to. He tore his gaze away, forcefully, and focused on his food, shoulders hunched in an attempt to will away the lingering effects. It was all still there, simmering at the back of his mind and playing across his nerves in want for more.

Lifting his hand, Shinichi bit at a knuckle as memories, echoes, of the feeling played hell across his control, and made him want to groan. His mind raced, clawing through cold hard facts in an effort to will away the desire still singing happily in his veins. Mathematic equations, books he'd read recently, the cases he'd solved (old and new), _anything_ to get his mind away from the dangerous territory that it seemed only too happy to sink back down into.

"How about you, Hakuba-kun?" Ran's voice piped up beside him. Shinichi was only too glad to tune into whatever she was talking about, if it would help get his mind off the past several minutes. Even now he could still feel that unnerving, _electric,_ gaze still boring relentlessly into him. "How did you end up here?"

Hakuba-san glanced at them as Ran's address registered. "I'm investigating my father's disappearance," he murmured. "He vanished while in this area around five years ago."

Ran gave a small gasp. "Oh, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

Hakuba-san smiled thinly. "We've no idea. He simply went missing after getting an invitation to meet with an unknown party and failed to let anyone know. It wasn't until he didn't show up at work that he was known to be missing. My mother and I live in England for the most part, and the Housekeeper was on leave while he was away."

Something clicked in Shinichi's mind, and it was a private relief as he felt the vestiges of excitement waning away to be replaced by his usual focus on interesting facts. "You're the son of that missing police chief."

He could remember when that had happened; how there had been a large fuss, an investigation, and eventually they'd been unable to find _anything_ except that he'd gotten an invitation (that was missing), and hadn't been seen or heard from again. The man was, in fact, presumed dead. Shinichi himself hadn't given the case much mind; missing persons weren't really his thing, he worked murders, and there had been no body for him to examine, and no real clues to piece it together. He had, however, followed it in the news.

The blond gave him a long, considering, look, then asked, "I am. And you are...?"

"Kudou Shinichi."

Hakuba-san's head inclined, his eyes going half lidded in thought. "That name strikes me as familiar...Should I know it?"

"I suppose it's too much to expect, that you'd know me," Shinichi said, tone condescending. "Considering, you said you spent the majority of the time out of the country."

"You're probably right," Hakuba-san replied placidly, not even missing a beat. "I'm sure the next time I have the chance I'll do my research properly."

"You be sure to do that."

"Shinichi!" Ran hissed, giving him an annoyed look. "There's no reason to be so rude!" Snorting, Shinichi subsided, and applied himself to his food once more. He rather felt there was a great deal of reason. Ran rolled her eyes, muttering about the childishness and boys, before smiling apologetically at Hakuba-san. "Shinichi's well known around Tokyo for being a Highschool Detective. The papers even called him the Heisei Holmes sometimes."

"They also called him the darlin' of the police force," Hattori cut in drily. "Isn't that right, O' great detective of the east?"

"Shut up, Hattori," Shinichi deadpanned dutifully. Then, tired of dealing with all of them, and wanting nothing more to be left to himself at that point, Shinichi turned his attention on Kuroba-san, though his eyes examined a portion of the table before their white clad host. "Kuroba-san? Would it be too much to ask that you have Konousuke-san show me to a room I can stay in? I'm far more tired than I thought." Ran was giving him a worried look, but he simply ignored it. He had no words to reassure her anyway, the reason for his ill-temper and unease unknown even to him.

"Of course, Kudou-kun. Let me make sure everything is in order."

Shinichi tracked Kuroba-san's movement from the corner of his eyes, watching him walk over to where Konousuke-san had suddenly reappeared by the door. Their white dressed host drew up before the older man, and leaned in close, one white gloved hand held up to conceal whatever he was saying. Despite how hard he tried, no matter how much Shinichi strained his ears, he couldn't hear what was being said. Whatever had been said, though, prompted a positive answer, apparently. Konousuke-san nodded, and a smile crawled across Kuroba-san's face, as tight lipped and enigmatic as ever.

The strange boy turned, and held his arms aloft once more. "Those of you who are finished are welcome to come along, or, if you so desire, stay here. You can also adjourn to the sitting room. I believe Hakuba-kun knows the way."

Shinichi stood quickly, wanting to vacate the room for the promised private quarters as fast as possible, even if it meant close proximity to the strange Kuroba. Ran followed a second later, hovering a few steps behind him, and Shinichi knew that he could be expecting her to come after him later tonight. He appreciated her concern, he truly did, but it wasn't like there was anything she could do.

Hattori and Toyama-chan followed a second later, with Hakuba-san bringing up the rear. "I think we're all tired enough to call it a night," Hattori said, half cheerful, half worn out.

"It would be for the best."

Shinichi shot the blond a look, taking note of his bland expression. Still, something did not resonate right, and perhaps it was merely a flicker of Hakuba-san's cinnamon eyes, but Shinichi had a feeling that the blond didn't have any inclination of sleeping the night away. In fact, how _had_ Hakuba managed to get here? There was no other vehicle that he could recall seeing.

Still, it was a mystery to ponder at another time.

"Then I shall leave you all in Jiichan's capable hands. I wish you all a goodnight." With that farewell, Kuroba-san swept from the room, and Konousuke-san beckoned them to follow him.

The group was led back to the foyer, then up the grand staircase to the second floor balcony. There, Shinichi paused. He had seen it before, from the lower level, but hadn't really paid the image any mind. Between the two large windows, overlooking a dark garden, was a large portrait of a man, woman, and a small boy.

The messy haired child was, quite obviously, their host. A bright grin was on his face as he looked directly at the viewer with such infectious energy and cheer that even the two dimensional paint could not quell it. The woman, a gentle smile on her face, sat with her hands clasped in her lap. Her gaze, however, was directed upward toward the man who stood beside her with a hand resting on her shoulder.

"The young master and his parents," Konousuke-san said, sadness lacing his voice. Glancing to the side, Shinichi noted that he wasn't the only interested party. The only member of the group not looking at the portrait was Hakuba-san, who was standing by one of the windows gazing out into the garden with narrowed eyes, his hands clasped behind his back.

"She's really pretty," he heard Toyama-chan comment. "Where are they now? Traveling abroad or somethin'?"

"I'm afraid Master Toichi and his wife passed away some time ago. The young master misses them dearly." The old man seemed truly sad, though what caused him greater distress was up in the air; it could be either the passing of the elder Kurobas, or the orphaning of the youngest. "Come along now, the rooms are this way."

Konousuke-san led them up the other set of stairs, then into the east wing. Hakuba departed first, stepping into the room closest the stairs, as the old man lead them further on to point out the rooms they were to use. Then turning to them he bowed politely. "Goodnight. Should you need anything, please come to the dining room. One of the staff will be on hand to help you."

The four of them stood, silently, as the man disappeared back down the hall. Once he was gone from sight and earshot, Hattori gave him a pointed look, and tilted his head toward the girls' room. "C'mon, Kudou, let's check the place out."

Nodding sharply, Shinichi stalked across the hall and pulled the door open, and peered warily into the room. Behind him, he heard Toyama-chan make a sound of protest before the words spilled forth, "What? Heiji! What's the big deal?"

Stepping into the room, Shinichi made space for Hattori to follow while the two girls huddled in the doorway. Toyama-chan continued to scowl at them, while Ran looked merely puzzled. She was watching him, though, Shinichi noted. Much too closely for comfort. He hated when she did that, when she watched him without a word. It meant she was analyzing him as surely as he analyzed a crime scene.

He wondered what she saw now, and at the same time didn't want to know. Shinichi well knew they were all worried about him, which was part of why Hattori had insisted on dragging him into this case. Personally, he thought they were being silly. It was just a slump, he'd get over it eventually.

Taking a moment, he glanced over the room. It was decorated in pale cream colored linens with darker walls and dark wood. The beds were on solid wooden frames, with ornate headboards set against one wall. Several paintings of soothing seascapes decorated the walls, alongside rather old looking wall lamps.

"Just wanna make sure, Kazuha," Hattori said, just this side of patronizing. "You can never be too careful after all."

Toyama-chan snorted loudly, even as Shinichi crouched down and flipped up the coverlet and sheets to check under the beds. "What? You think someone here is a _murderer_?"

"Hey, it could happen alright?" Hattori growled. "And I'm not sayin' that's the case. Just that it's better to be safe than sorry. For all we know one of 'em could be a pervert or somethin'." The Osakan leaned over, running his fingers along the undersides of the night stands. "Honestly, yer such an ahou, Kazuha! Don't you have any sense of self preservation?"

"I'm sorry I'm not a paranoid ahou like you!"

The two detective's continued their sweep of the room, the entire thing interspersed with Hattori and Toyama-chan's bickering until, after checking to make sure the single, large, window was locked and pulling the curtains closed, Shinichi stepped back, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and declared, "It seems to be fine. I'm going to bed."

As Shinichi moved passed the two girls still waiting in the doorway, Ran lifted her hand as if to catch his sleeve and stop him from walking off. At the last moment though, she changed her mind and pulled her hand back.

"Take that idiot with you, would you?" Toyama-chan growled, pointing angrily at Hattori.

Glancing back, Shinichi noticed that the idiot was still standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed and a frown on his face. "Come _on_, Hattori." Hattori huffed out a sigh and followed after him, looking rather putout that he hadn't discovered anything untoward. "It isn't like they can't take care of themselves, anyway."

Hattori looked at him from the corners of his eyes as the pair paused in front of the door to the room he'd been given. Apparently, the two of them and the blond Hakuba had been gifted with separate rooms, while the girls were rooming together. Shinichi wondered if it had been done purposely to quell any anxiety.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I can't help but worry. Somethin' about this place is just settin' my nerves on edge, you know?"

Shinichi rolled his shoulders indifferently. "It's weird, could be harmless eccentricities though. Just keep alert."

"You don't gotta tell me twice, Kudou." Hattori glanced toward the closed door to the girls' room once more, then disappeared into his own.

Shinichi proceeded on to his, amused that he'd gotten his wish for isolation. It was the furthest from the stairs, and separated from the other rooms by at least one other. All he really wanted to do was sleep off the weirdness of the night so far. Stepping inside though, the first thing he did was scan the room.

It was much like the other, though in shades of dark blue linen. The bed was one of those heavy looking four posters, with heavy dark blue draperies tied back, and an empty fire place stood against one wall. The only painting, however, was hanging over the mantle, and of a rather enigmatic individual in a familiar white suit, with the additives of a top hat, monocle, and a cape billowing in the wind. A full moon hung in the backdrop. He studied it for a moment, then turned away with a snort.

Eccentric was right on the spot it seemed.

Bookshelves holding a number of tomes stood to either side of the bed, and he spotted his bag propped on the low bench at the foot of it. Ignoring it for now, he made his way over to the glass doors at the other end of the room and peered out them. Though only darkness met his gaze, he could guess from the direction he was facing that the balcony beyond overlooked the back gardens.

With a final glance across the dark landscape, Shinichi reached up and tugged the heavy drapes to either side of the doors free and hauled them closed. Then, on a whim, he turned and began to go over the room with minute care, just as he and Hattori had done to the girls not but a few minutes previously. Maybe he was being paranoid, but there was an itch between his shoulder blades, an uneasiness in his stomach, that egged him on.

Despite his tiredness he also felt restless. It was as if two parts of his brain were warring with each other. One, it seemed, wanted to turn his flight instinct on full, while the other was ignoring it. Part of him mutinously offered that, maybe, something _else_ was making him ignore his urge to flee.

Personally, Shinichi thought he was being incredibly silly. Whatever was making him this jumpy was starting to get on his nerves. Stalking grumpily to the bed, he unzipped his bag and fished out a pair of pajamas that he'd packed. As he dragged his shirt over his head, he absently contemplated the puzzle pieces he'd picked up over the day. It wasn't much, not even really enough to give him a _clue_, but he could say one thing for certain; Hakuba thought that Kuroba had something to do with his father's disappearance, or, at least, knew something about it.

It was no coincidence that he was here. That fact also explained the way the blond watched the weird boy with his eagle eyed stare.

Kuroba, though, was something else altogether. Strange, eccentric, an enigma to the very core. Shinichi couldn't get a read on him, not like he could with most people. Most people he found were predictable: They reacted within a set of fixed parameters depending on who they were, and what sort of situation you encountered them in. Life, quite frankly, was like an enormous game of chess.

This, though... Shinichi thought, as he folded his cloths and tucked them away, dressed now in the set of pajamas. Absently he tugged at a cuff, and tugged down the coverlet and sheets before sitting down on the edge of the bed. This entire place was like an immense puzzle box. He felt like he'd stumbled into a mystery house, and, quite frankly, the idea thrilled him. Though, some parts of the mystery sent shivers chasing each other down his spine, both pleasant and unpleasant.

A soft knock sounded on the door, and Shinichi heaved a sigh. He'd been waiting for this. "Come on in, Ran."

The girl in question eased the door open, and gave him an unrepentant smile. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You've been acting weird." She paused, seemed to reconsider, then added, "Well, weirder than usual, anyway."

They both knew that was a lie. Shinichi hadn't been himself in _months_, but no one brought it up. The few times Hattori had tried Shinichi merely ignored him, or told him to drop it. There was no reason to worry over it, it was merely a phase and things would move on.

"I'm fine, Ran, really."

Ran walked slowly toward him, like he would bolt if she moved too fast, then sat down on the edge of the bed as well. Her head was angled down, her attention on her slippered feet. "Are you really, Shinichi? Things have been so..." she trailed off, chewing her lower lip. It was obvious that she couldn't seem to describe it properly. "It's like you're walking away," she said at last. "Growing farther and farther away."

"Ran, it's nothing like that," he soothed. It really wasn't. Just because he was having a bit of a down swing in things didn't mean he was having _problems_! Okay, so maybe the cases had been a little dull lately, and there wasn't quite the same excitement, but things like that happened. He was just a bit bored because nothing truly challenging had come along in ages.

After a moment, she confessed, voice soft, "It scares me, Shinichi."

"Well," he said. "There's no reason to be scared. Everything's fine, I promise."

She smiled at him, a faint smile that said she wanted to believe him, but wasn't sure if she could then, finally, nodded. "Alright, but when we get home we're going to do something fun. Just the two of us, okay?"

"Right."

With a pleased nod, Ran stood. She paused, hovering uncertainly for a moment before bidding him a quiet goodnight and taking her leave. Not for the first time did Shinichi wonder how she could still be holding onto such hope. He could see it now, clearly, that she was still waiting for him to take the initiative. He, however, hadn't, and didn't. Shinichi wasn't sure _why_ he hadn't. It was what he'd planned to do eventually, wasn't it?

Yet, somehow, he never did, and Ran, well, she continued to hold onto hope.

He really didn't want to think about it.

Flopping down, Shinichi dragged the sheets up. He didn't care to get up, dig out his toothbrush and toothpaste, and bother with all of that tonight. He was much too tired to bother making the trip, despite the fact that he well knew the bathroom was nearby, since the old man had pointed it out. Already he could feel himself relaxing into a half asleep state as the weariness of travel lulled him, and made it all the easier to relax into the soft mattress and pillow.

Rolling onto his stomach, he tucked one arm beneath the pillow, while letting the other rest atop it, and sighed. He'd slept in a myriad of places over his time spent as a detective, from sleeping bags to high class hotels. It was just part of the job description, really, and he had no trouble falling asleep in these conditions.

The hazy heaviness of fatigue drew him into that languid, surreal, state between wakefulness and sleeping. A state where he never knew if he was conscious or dreaming, a place where everything felt unreal. Shinichi's eyes fluttered closed, and he breathed in, rubbing his cheek against the pillow.

He didn't know how long he dozed, slipping in and out of wakefulness due to a mind that refused to shut down, or maybe he was dreaming. Shinichi couldn't be sure either way.

A soft click, followed by a cool waft of rain scented air, caused Shinichi to stir slightly. Turning his head, he gazed drowsily toward the glass doors. They stood ajar, a dark figure filling the space between them as the draperies billowed inward. The patter of a stream of rainwater falling in a steady flow from the eaves was almost enough to drown out the the softer hissing of the falling rain.

Somewhere, in the distance, a low grumble of thunder penetrated the night.

Shinichi squinted, trying to make out who was there. His mind sluggishly suggested that he _ought_ to be reacting more violently to the fact that someone was _sneaking into the room_. As soon as the thought occurred to him, and Shinichi began to push himself up, it was swamped just as quickly beneath a wash of drowsiness, and, he realized a second later, that same _feeling_ from before.

The soft sound of footsteps on the carpet made him twitch, and Shinichi watched through heavy lids as the person approached the bed. White, turned gray and blue by the shadows, was the first thing he noticed. Looking upward he made out messing hair, and a glint of eyes, reflecting the small amount of light that squeezed in under the door from the hall. Like a cats eyes, or an owls; like a _predators_.

His heart thumped in his chest, his mind demanding he pay heed to it, but, every time he began to, it was washed away on another small wave of pleasurable feelings and sleepiness. Even the faint feeling of helplessness disappeared under the strange, gentle, pressure on his mind.

Kuroba, he was sure that's who it was now, settled a knee on the edge of the bed. His cloths were wet, his hair sticking up here and there while it was plastered flat in other places. Shinichi wanted to ask what the hell he thought he was doing, why he was here, but couldn't. His voice was strangled beneath a swell of desire so strong his entire body twitched.

The mattress dipped again as the white dressed boy stretched out, hand extending to brace against the surface, followed by the other. Drawing his other knee up Kuroba prowled over to him, reached over him, then crawled up his body like some, strange, hunting cat sizing up a downed antelope. As the other boy's knees indented the mattress to either side of his hips, Shinichi shifted again, though, this time, in more of an effort to throw off the haze that was encapsulating him. Something, somewhere, deep in his brain, primal and instinctual, was screaming.

Danger, it said, predator, it said.

That part of his mind, the fight or flight instinct, was scrabbling for purchase on a slippery slope. The other parts of his brain seemed to have perked their heads up, curious and intrigued and wondering, while another raved angrily about his apparent lack of control. It seemed to subside, softly and quietly, like a pouting child, as cold lips touched the nape of his neck. He shivered, automatically, and couldn't help but think that had felt like being touched by _death_.

Droplets of water spattered against his skin, running down along his throat toward his Adam's apple. A nose nuzzled against the fine bit of hair at the base of his skull, and Shinichi stared at the white gloved hand that was sliding up the length of his sleeved arm, making his clothing damp, and his skin cold. Goosebumps broke out on his arms, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling as lips passed, faintly moist, over the skin there again.

The feel of those same cold lips against the shell of his ear nearly made him jump out of his skin, and reminded him that he that he really ought to protest. Really, what would people think of him? Great Detective of the East, just allowing himself to be molested by some weirdo in the middle of nowhere. Given, he thought, the weirdo was decent looking if not for his slight case of jaundice, but, there, that was just narcissism of the highest degree talking. A mirror complex derived from spending too much time with himself and his ego and... It occurred to him that he might be slightly hysterical right then.

"Just a taste tonight," that lilting, dark, voice purred, all honey and a taste of arsenic and promise. "For you, and for me."

Shinichi's brain stuttered in confusion. "Taste...?" he managed to croak, even as he scrambled to keep up. Forget what he said, another part of him urged. He _really_ shouldn't be letting this idiot take these kinds of liberties with him. And, with that thought, he flushed hotly. Because, even if he was thinking that, he was also thinking about earlier, in the dining room, that knowing smirk, those hooded eyes... The feeling of arousal singing in his veins, like it was stirring now.

It all connected back to that singular image, to that eccentric person, to Kuroba. Someone, he thought acidly, he hadn't even known existed for more than a few hours. What he _really_ ought to do is shove him off, go get Ran and the others, get out of here, then finally ask Ran on that date she was longing for and resume a _normal_ life.

Yet, somehow, just that thought, just the though of 'normal', kept him from reacting that way. This wasn't normal, this was exciting, a mystery, and, frankly, despite the fact that he felt like he was being played with by some sort of large, predatory cat, he didn't feel in any danger at all.

Clammy fingers wrapped around his wrist, easing his hand up until grave cold lips could wrap around one of his fingers. Shinichi's brain immediately slid to a halt as his finger was drawn in, up to the middle knuckle. He was pretty sure that he'd felt canine teeth that were _far_ too long for a normal human. A careful tongue curled around his finger, teasing lightly along the sensitive pad before releasing him.

Even the inside of his mouth had felt cold, like he'd been sucking on ice cubes. Though, he noted absently, that the hand around his wrist was starting to warm as if his own body heat were causing the phenomenon.

Kuroba's cold tongue slid down, slimy against the palm of his hand, before careful teeth nibbled at the large muscle near the base of his thumb. Then, just as carefully as he had plucked his hand up, Kuroba deposited it back on the pillow. "Just a taste," Kuroba agreed, leaning back in. "Of what I'm offering you, Kudou-kun, and what I require."

"What?" Faintly, Shinichi noted, his motor functions seemed to be under a bit more control, and he drew his other arm, the one curled beneath his pillow, to his chest and curled it beneath him. Pushing himself upward slightly, he stilled, inhaled, as he touched lightly against the still body curved above him.

Lips, brushing against his neck again, curved into a vaguely dangerous smile. "I always was the type to steal a taste before dinner was served, and, really, it's only polite. But, then, they do say it takes a truly tempting meal to be stolen."

A cold, wet, hand snaked beneath him pulling open the buttons of his pajama shirt and letting them fall aside, though Kuroba didn't seem interested in totally divesting him. The boy's chill nose nuzzled against his neck, pushing aside the collar of his shirt to bear the ridge of his shoulder. Sharp, needle like, points scraped languidly over his skin, digging in just enough that he could feel slick droplets of blood rolling down his skin. It itched, made his skin crawl slightly, and his shoulders tense.

A cold tongue lapped over them, swiping up the droplets.

It was then, that Shinichi attempted to twist around, that a real amount of confused annoyance was beginning to boil in him again. His eyes locked on the other pair, violet irises that glittered at him in the near perfect darkness, and, like a switch being flipped, a wave of pure _wantneedlustarousal_ flooded his system so hard, so fast, that he choked and gasped. He didn't even feel the fangs that pierced his skin, not quite on his neck, so as to avoid the most important arteries, but a little further toward his shoulder.

Shinichi moaned, body taught, and shifting restlessly against between the cool, wet, body above him and the mattress. His lips parted, drawing in a deep lungful of air. Unable to get any purchase, he simply squirmed, trying to press his hips into the annoyingly giving surface beneath him.

Kuroba hummed, obnoxiously, against his skin and settled his body closer to his, pressing him into the mattress. The cold, above him, the sheets warm from his own body heat beneath him, proved to be an interesting contrast, not that he could tell. His mind had long sense been delved into something senseless, but completely sensory.

Shinichi twitched, tried to get to get his hands beneath him, because, quite frankly, it was almost _painful._ However, that same, clammy, gloved, hand grabbed his wrist, pressing it back into his pillow. His other arm remained, woefully, trapped beneath his chest.

The teeth unlatched from his neck with a slick sound, trailing over his shoulder and, no doubt, smearing blood there. He swore quietly as Kuroba pressed down on him again, only to earn a chuckle in return. A tongue swiped over his shoulder, over the bleeding wound, before lips latched on. Kuroba sucked, lazily, at the continued upwelling of blood. Faintly, the clinical part of Shinichi's brain wondered about anticoagulants, and vampire bats.

The pressure on him from above eased up as Kuroba shifted his knees, and arched his back. He pulled away, sitting up, and Shinichi, lust hazing his thoughts attempted to push himself up, wanting nothing more than to touch himself and ease the ache by whatever means necessary.

A hand, cold as the rain water that he could still hear falling beyond the room, pressed against his lower back, seeming to hold him in place with very little effort. He twitched, caught between anger, and confusion. What the hell was going on anyway? Apparently he'd been wrong. This was some sort of freakish horror movie. That, or they'd managed to stumble across some _cult,_ but, he didn't care about that now. What he _did_ care about was that he was so aroused it was _painful_ right then.

What the hell was making his pleasure center so haywire anyway?

Despite the annoyingly demanding hand resting on his back he'd brought himself to his knees, with every intent to sit back and deal with this, when a sodden, white, glove dropped near his face. He stared at it, his brain trying to come up with a reason behind this. He wasn't thinking too well, and, all things considered, Shinichi was just glad he could think at all.

Blood dripped off his chest, drip drop spatter, into a speckled pattern on the white sheets below him. Nonsensical as the glove, but at least that made a little more sense. He almost reached up to touch the steadily leaking bite, but was stopped as Kuroba leaned over him again, body not-warm but not-cold against his back. His cloths, he noted absently, were sticking to him from a combination of the rain water from Kuroba, and _sweat_.

A chilly hand skated along his chest from collarbone to the point where his shirt remained button, warming as it went. Lips, reattached, insistently, to the bloody bite on his shoulder. Dextrous, nimble, fingers undid the last several buttons, leaving his shirt to hang open, then delved, suddenly, downward and beneath the waistband of his pajama pants and boxers. He sucked in a breath, as fingers, still too cold to be exactly comfortable, wrapped around the length of him.

Kuroba nudged his pants lower, pulling his erection free from the confines even as his fingers began to slide deftly over the veins and details. Cupping, cool and loose, around the head, before descending in a full stroke that Shinichi rocked forward to meet. He gasped, lungs feeling like they couldn't get enough oxygen as a thumb swiped, barely there, over the tip spreading liquid insistently. The next tug of the other boy's fist, down, a squeeze at the base, then back up was tighter, slicker; made him moan and shift in restive little twitches.

With a slight jolt Kuroba sat back, pulling him along. His own hands reached back, one bracing against Kuroba's thigh in an attempt to keep himself balanced while the other caught on the wiry forearm reaching around him. He could feel muscles, flexing, with every tug on his cock, twitching beneath skin that was warming under his palm. He swallowed, throat convulsing, at the heady feeling of euphoria that tightened the muscles in his body and swamped him with cold heat.

A white gloved hand caught at the side of his head, tightening almost painfully in the tousled locks of his hair, and tugged him to meeting the gaze of cool, violet eyes. He was lost, swept away– it seemed like all he could do just to wait it out, like the storm outside –by another upswing in endorphins that had no real right to be so overwhelming. His back arched, mouth parting on silent words, prayers, and condemnations.

The hand that had rested on his head, slid down, smoothing icy cold fabric over the curve of his cheek, and down the line of his neck. A finger slid, pointedly, along the ridge of his clavicle to delicately circle and worry the indent at the base of his throat. Kuroba's hand flattened out, fingers spread, as it passed downward, petting coldly over his chest before rising, pausing, splayed over his erratically pumping heart.

It was almost soothing, almost, but nothing could distracted from the feel of the slick hand groping over him, fingers dipping occasionally to finger his scrotum, or a fingernail edging the side of painful as it was scraped, loosely, against the entire length from slit to base. He twitched, hips rising, head falling forward to stare with glazed eyes at the hand on him– moving, stroking, pulling –to watch even as he was brought to the pinnacle, and over it where he lost all focus on _everything_.

He'd never thought that sensory overload could be so real, even as he slumped, boneless, against the disconcertingly still body behind him. A slow, final, sweep of a tongue, flattened against the curvature of his shoulder made him wince and shiver. The hand, still on him, made him hiss from sensitivity even as Kuroba carefully lowered him onto the mattress again, thankfully, away from the mess.

Shinichi was merely too glad to let the sudden surge of exhausted darkness swamp him completely, only too glad to surrender, without complaint, to its embrace. His thoughts could race all they wanted in the morning as far as he was concerned, so long as he didn't have to deal with it now.

* * *


	3. Hunger

**PLEASE NOTE: This chapter contains mature content at the beginning. If you are uncomfortable reading it, you have been warned. **

* * *

**Hunger**

* * *

Shinichi swam, blearily, up from the depths of sleep, as the siren call of a thick beam of pale light falling across his eyes coaxed him from the deep, dreamless depths. He groaned and pressed his face into the mattress in an attempt to escape the glow turning the inside of his eyelids red. Screwing his eyes tighter shut, Shinichi tried to will himself back to sleep, even though he knew he was well awake by now. Rubbing his nose into the sheets, he became aware of that annoying, numb, sort of half-pain that resulted from sleeping on creased fabric so long it imprinted in the skin.

Shifting in faint aggravation, he kicked the blanket that was draped over him lower in an effort to ease the prickling feeling against his skin. One of his arms was pinned beneath his chest diagonally, his hand resting down near his hip, and Shinichi realized faintly that it was numb. So numb in fact, that it felt like it had been turned into a useless lump of rubber.

Twitching, he brought his other arm up, knuckles sliding against the sheets, and used enough force to roll onto his side. The sheets clung slightly, sticking the most to his upper chest and one shoulder. They peeled away as he moved, pulling slightly at the skin and making a bit of a dry sound as they did so. It seemed so incongruous that he ignored it for the moment, too sleepy to pay it any mind.

Squinting his eyes open, Shinichi glared frostily at his numb hand. He was holding it above him, and could barely even tell. For all the way it felt to move it the thing could have really _been_ made of rubber. Flexing his fingers slowly, Shinichi furrowed his brows in thought. That weird dream that he'd had...

As the exact sequence came back to him, a blush rushed to the surface of his cheeks, and, really, the entirety of his face. He wouldn't have been surprised if he was flushed down to his chest or more. He certainly _felt_ hot enough all over to be, and, he noticed, with a faintly irritated groan, that wasn't the only reason. Shifting uncomfortably, Shinichi angled his gazed at the messily closed curtains over the balcony doors, one of which was parted slightly.

Why in the world would he dream about _another boy_ who he _didn't even know_ in that manner? Given, it was probably one of the most vivid wet dreams he'd ever had, and he'd had a decent few. Still, most of them had been sort of hazy, and half forgotten by the time he'd woken up and been left with messy cloths and sheets. Embarrassing, but not unbearably so. This, however, was shockingly easy to remember down to the pleasure hazed details, and the way his every nerve had seemed to be on fire, and, of course, the feel of too sharp teeth scraping over his skin.

His hand slid down his chest, tracing the dream-memory of a cold, gloved hand petting over him in the same manner. He didn't even notice until his fingertips dipped below the slightly twisted waistband of his pajama pants. He breathed in through his nose, startled by his own arousal at the simple recall of a strange, strange dream, but couldn't deny the already slight erection, from, perhaps, other dreams, or, of course, simple haywire hormones, stirring and hardening further.

How weird was it, to sit there and contemplate masturbating over images, strange ones at that, of the host who had allowed them to stay the night in his home? Surely, he thought, even as he pulled his hand back and absently laid it over himself, beginning to knead and pull through the fabric of his pajama bottoms, almost as hideously embarrassing as facing, say, Ran, after his hormones had gotten the better of him.

He hadn't been able to look her in the eye all day after that morning, and she'd ended up thinking he was upset with her over something.

But, he wasn't thinking about her this time. He was thinking about a demon's own smile on an impish face as he flexed his hips up into his own palm. Rasping through his throat, a soft oath lit the air, neck curving back and an unheeded twinge of pain, from the vicinity of the junction of his shoulder and neck, sparking behind his eyes.

Unfulfilled by the almost bored fondling, Shinichi lifted his hips, wriggling impatiently as he shoved his pants down to mid thigh. Tracing his fingers over the lines of his hipbones, right beneath a thin layer of flesh and muscle, he wrapped his fingers around the base of his penis in a loose grip and dragged his hand slowly upward. Closing his eyes, he remembered the feel of a heavy body pressing him down, encompassing him, _dominating_... The thought made him flush again, made him wonder at his own subconscious, and made his fist tighten around his cock in a quick jerk that had him moaning deep in his throat.

Shinichi shifted, curved his spine, and slid his other hand over his stomach and along his thighs, petting tensed muscles as he rolled his hips up into his own hand and imagined the cold touch of another, the feel of lips on his shoulder, and the warmth of sticky blood sliding down his chest.

Drawing his knees up, Shinichi dug his heels into the mattress and slid his hand between his thighs. He focused, now, on the rising tide of heat that was making him tense and flex, making him throb and pant. Gripping the weight of his testicles, Shinichi slid his fingers over them, knowing every little trick that would bring himself spiraling out of control.

Swiping his thumb over the tip of his cock, he pulled his hand down more forcefully, spreading precum with slick fingers. His hips twitched again, restless and half mad. Images fluttered behind his closed eyelids as he arched, pressing his head and shoulders into the mattress. Images of luminous eyes, and a shadowy figure standing over him with a too sharp grin, of a weight settling over him, demanding, of a loss of control that should terrify and shame him, of words whispered, and as he came, of a bite that should pain him.

Even as he settled, boneless and spent, a sticky, warm mess spread across his abdomen, into the almost trapping embrace of the bed, Shinichi couldn't help but note that this hadn't been nearly as satisfying. It hadn't had the sharp edged resplendence that even the episode in the dining room had had, and, he realized, with a faint ache that he was almost _craving_ that rush now.

He could admit that he'd been hoping to feel that again, and couldn't help but wonder if two times had merely been a fluke, merely been an overactive mind that was too tired to function properly. Shinichi didn't want to admit to the disappointment settling in his stomach, and, instead, luxuriated in the bliss of release like a sated cat a moment longer.

Absentmindedly he licked his fingertips, then immediately flushed as he realized what he'd done. Deciding not to think about it, Shinichi pushed himself into a sitting position, despite how his muscles protested against such rash actions, and glanced around for something to clean up the mess that was sliding down his stomach. It was then that he noticed the large, rusty stain on the bed, delineated by a slope that brought to mind his own shoulder, though it also spread further down as well. The center of the stain was a darker color, looking almost wet still, almost fresh. Shinichi wouldn't been surprised if it was still damp to the touch.

Reaching out as if in a daze, he touched his fingers to it and noted that, yes, it was still damp. Pulling his hand away he blinked hazily at the bit of red tinting his fingertips. The mattress had absorbed enough blood that it wasn't all dry yet, like a saturated sponge. Maybe, he thought a bit giddily, that was why he felt a bit light headed? Smearing the blood across the sheets to clean it away from his fingers, he gazed, flushing dizzily, at the _other_ fluids staining the sheets.

Then, slowly, almost not wanting to, he lifted his gaze back up to look at the partially open balcony doors. It could be explained, he tried to tell himself, doing his best to ignoring the increased rate of his heartbeat. Maybe he'd developed a sudden tendency to sleep walk, and opened the balcony doors. Or, maybe the storm had gotten that bad, and the latch was faulty. He should probably let the staff know, if that were the case.

And, okay, he was no stranger to wet dreams, even weird ones, and he'd just managed to cut himself somehow. Really, was that so odd? Pointedly ignoring the logical, detective minded side of his brain that noted that was a little too much blood for a simple _cut, _Shinichi used the blanket to wipe the mess off his stomach. Pausing, he frowned at his shirt.

If it had been a dream, then why had he woken up with the buttons on his shirt undone?

Denial happily sang up an excuse: They merely slipped in the night, or maybe he'd undone them himself. Right.

Except that was dried blood on his chest he noticed faintly, becoming aware of the itchy feeling of having something dried on his skin. Almost warily Shinichi reached up, touching carefully on the flaking mess running from his shoulder along his pectoral. Running tentative fingers up along the trail of rusty substance, he flattened his hand out over the top of his shoulder. He winced immediately as his hand pressed lightly into the sore skin.

His breath hitched, pulse jumping as a confusing shock of panic and _something else_ sparked along his nerves. Suppressing the memories of the dream, of course it was only a dream, Shinichi swung his legs off the side of the bed, setting his feet into the slippers waiting for him there, where he'd left them the night before, and stood abruptly. He was suddenly overcome with a _need_ to see for himself, to find proof of whether he had been dreaming, or if it had _really_ happened.

A flush warmed him from ears to chest as he glanced from under his lashes at the soiled sheets. For a moment a clammy, almost bashful, feeling settled over his skin, and he concentrated on buttoning his pajama shirt with a slow, careful precision. He didn't want to admit it, but his fingers were trembling slightly. Shinichi wasn't sure if it was because he was starting to feel the first pangs of panic, or because he'd lost enough blood to feel a bit woozy.

Shooting another sidelong look at the bed, he fought down another blush and stood up. He didn't even want to think about what the housekeeping staff would think, even though an insidious little voice whispered in the back of his mind that, just maybe, they were used to finding inexplicable fluids here and there, having a vampire master and all. Shinichi quickly banished the thought, and grabbed his bag roughly.

Stalking to the door he paused, hesitating as his hand hovered over the handle. He listened, straining his ears for any sound out there. Shinichi was _quite_ sure that he didn't want to run into one of his friends right now. Whoever it was, whatever the case, he was sure it would prove extremely mortifying. To be honest, Shinichi wasn't sure what would be worse: Simply facing them in this state, or trying to _explain_ aforementioned state. Probably the later, but he didn't really want to test the theory.

Once he was sure that no one was out there, Shinichi eased the door open and slipped out. The hall was as empty as he'd hoped, though the door to the rooms he knew had been occupied were all open, and a glance through Hattori's and the girl's doors showed that they weren't in them. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Shinichi picked up his pace as he neared the bathroom. He was only several steps away when that door swung open, and Hattori himself stepped out.

Shinichi stopped dead, shoulders tensing and spine so rigid he was sure he was going to just snap in half at any moment. Though he tried his hardest to keep his face bland as ever, he was damned sure his discomfort was clear to be seen. At least he wasn't blushing. He hoped.

Hattori blinked at him, opened his mouth, paused, blinked again, and gave Shinichi a considering once over. Finally the idiot asked, "What the hell happened to you?"

His tongue was tied, twisted into a million knots, and Shinichi just wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. His fingers fiddled with the lowest button on his top, then he reached up and tugged his collar a little closer to his neck. He hoped that Hattori couldn't see the blood.

Part of him, was scoffing at his ridiculously guilty tells, but, really, Shinichi thought, anyone in this awkward of a situation would have _some_ difficulty keeping a completely blank face.

Finally, Hattori seemed to decide he wasn't going to answer, seemed used to it, probably was, and said teasingly, "You look like you had a helluva night." Then laughing to himself, the Osakan wandered passed Shinichi, and headed back toward his room.

Luckily he didn't seem to see the way Shinichi's face was suddenly burning. Shinichi was sure he was going to self combust right then and there. Stiffly he walked the remaining couple of paces to the bathroom, and swiftly snapped the door closed behind him. His fingers, shaking slightly, turned the lock. It was an extremely satisfying sound to hear it snap into place, and he leaned against the door. The wood felt cool against his heated forehead and cheeks.

Breathing shallowly, he tried to quell the unstable emotions swirling around in him, panic seemed to be the foremost, but there was also a great deal of incredulity and fear. Did Hattori _know_ something? If that had been more than a dream– and here was where something that tasted a great deal like shame welled up like bile –had he _really_ allowed someone he didn't even know to, to _touch_ him so intimately?

Why hadn't he fought back? Why had he, damn it, why had he _enjoyed_ it so much he was left wanting _more_ and, and...

Shinichi swung away from the door, quelling the urge to hyperventilate with sheer force of will, and stepped further into the room. Dropping his bag on the counter beside the inset sink, he stared, wide eyed and pale faced, into the mirror there. His hair was wildly tousled, his eyes lined lightly with shadows, and faint, red welts traced down the side of his neck. His cloths had fared even worse; wrinkled and twisted.

He looked, he thought, (How had some of the courser speaking boys in his year put it?) 'like he'd had a good fuck'.

Swallowing past something tightening his throat, Shinichi reached up slowly and fumbled the buttons of his shirt open one at a time, hurried but as steady as he could. The unveiling of his own pale flash supplanted the image of a gloved hand petting over his skin, soothing and inflaming, in his mind's eye. He shook it away roughly.

Reaching up, Shinichi gripped the edge of his collar. He paused, inhaling and exhaling in a sharp, broken pattern. If he looked, if he checked, he could find answers he didn't want to think about. Everything rode on this, and did he really want the truth that much? It was almost sickening; here he was, always going on about how Truth was so important. Truth was his end all be all, and now he was _scared_ of it and what it could mean.

A sudden loud knocking on the door nearly made Shinichi jump out of his skin, made it feel like his heart had literally skipped a beat, and his lungs felt like they'd never be full enough again. "Oi, Kudou! I'm headin' down now. I'll let the girls know you'll be down in a bit."

Trying to work passed the dryness clogging his throat, Shinichi fumbled for a response, but it didn't appear that Hattori needed one. He could hear footsteps receding for a few moments, then silence returned. Shinichi turned to look at his reflection again, pressing his lips into a thin, determined line.

Without giving himself a chance to second guess his actions (again), he shrugged his shirt off and let it fall with a faint whisper to the ground. He stared at himself, at the rusty swath dried across his clavicle, part of his pectoral, the ridge of his shoulder: Stared at the origin point of it, and, after several hesitant seconds, reached for a cloth and wet it, then began to gently wash the blood off.

He started low, getting the mess off his chest then working up. Wincing, he carefully worked on his shoulder on the, the, the _wound_. Shinichi refused to call it a bite; it wasn't. At least, not yet.

Dropping the discolored cloth into the basin of the sink Shinichi leaned forward, eyes skipping frantically down toward his shoulder. He sucked in a breath, stared, blinked hard, then let out a shuddering sigh. There, on the ridge of his shoulder, were two perfect little punctures. Round and bruised a deep purple at the epicenter, while the flesh further out was red, inflamed, and tender to the careful touch of his exploratory fingertips.

If he applied pressure, tugging the skin a little either way, the tiny holes would part, open like an incision, and weep a few spare droplets of vivid red blood that lingered, edging down his damp skin. He wiped at them, smearing crimson against his flesh, and felt a chill settle into the base of his spine.

If, _if_, he took his as proof, if he believed that Kuroba was a... vampire... if... What then? What, indeed, did he do now? Not only had he allowed such a liberty from someone he didn't know, not only had he been, possibly, _coerced_ into it, but...

Shinichi swallowed thickly. Vampires were essentially the walking dead. _A dead body_ with a sort of mind remaining. He refused to call it a human mind, because while it might hovering on the edges of that still, it was something _more_ than human, and even he could tell that.

Goosebumps broke out all over his body as he remembered that alien feeling, like someone had rewired his brain and made him go _insane_. Shinichi realized, with a rising feeling of dread, gripping the edge of the counter with clammy hands, that he didn't even know the right questions to begin asking. He hunched his shoulders, head lolling as he stared into the basin of the sink and rolled the idea around in his head.

Hell, he didn't even know whether or not he should be appalled, want to throw up, at the fact that he'd just had what amounted to a walking corpse jerk him off last night. If he believed, of course. If, if, if.

Given it had been very _good_, but... He really wasn't going to go there right now.

Dead bodies didn't bother him, hadn't since he was very small. Shinichi was of the mind that he'd never really had that childish ignorance where death was concerned, had always had a much too intimate knowledge of it. No, dead bodies didn't bother him. And, really, there as even something novel about the living dead as compared to the dead dead. Something strangely foreign and erotic about corpse cold fingers sliding over skin that felt too hot and too tight to be worth living in, when he could ascend much higher at the play of fingers like an instrument, a puppet; like prey.

Another shiver traced its way cold, clammy, and haunting up his spine at the swift cascade of thought. Whatever the case may be, he couldn't make any decisions yet: This could, as yet, be an elaborate setting created by a twisted, but very human, mind. He needed more information, needed more proof.

What he needed now was a hot shower to wash the dried sweat from his skin and ease away the tension in his muscles. Maybe it could even wash away some of the clinging cobwebs that inhabited his brain. Quickly shedding the remains of his cloths he did just that, luxuriating in the warmth for as long as he could. Afterward, as he saw to his teeth and tugged his cuffs into alignment and pulled his hair back into its usual neat control, was when he started to notice the hunger clawing at his stomach.

He supposed that that wasn't a surprising reaction considering last night, and how–

Cutting off the thought, Shinichi gathered his things again and slipped back to the room he'd spent the night in, depositing his bag there, and ignoring the fact that the bedding had been changed for fresh. He didn't want to think about it. Right now he could focus on finding his friends, on figuring out where they were, on... leaving.

It wasn't until Shinichi found himself at the top of the stairs that it struck him. He had to face Kuroba.

Suddenly Shinichi wasn't sure what was worse; the idea that he'd had a very nice wet dream about Kuroba as a vampire then jerked off while thinking about him when he woke up, or if Kuroba really was a vampire (or some sort of lunatic) and had crawled into bed with him last night.

Frozen, he shifted uncertainly, staring down at the large portrait on the second floor balcony, and wondering how the hell he was going to manage to face the guy. Trying to think logically, he recalled that people had sex all the time. Sometimes they even had sex with people they'd never met and didn't even know the names of. It was... sort of normal. Maybe.

He just had to face it, get it over with, and deal with it. Except it was still going to be horribly embarrassing, and somehow Shinichi knew that, no matter what, when he saw the other boy again there was going to be vestiges of last night, memory or dream.

The heated feeling of a blush riding high in his cheeks as he skittered warily down the stairs to the ground floor, Shinichi nearly spooked and went diving for cover when a voice called his name. Turning, and telling his speeding heart to calm, while keeping his face forcefully blank, he found the old man, Konousuke-san, standing near the entrance to one of the hallways. The one, Shinichi recalled, that led to the dining room from the night before.

"Ah, yes?"

Konousuke-san was giving him one of the strangest looks Shinichi had ever seen. It was a weird mixture between amusement, wistful hope, and a deep sadness the likes of which he had never known. That look made him fidget in a way that Shinichi had never experienced, made his hand fly up and clamp over the... bite mark... unconsciously. It hurt, beneath his hands. An achy kind of sore, rather than sharp. Like a bruise. The amusement seemed to deepen.

It was a simple step, an epiphany of minor proportions to know that the old man _knew_ something. And, for the first time in his life, Shinichi shied away from an interrogation. This wasn't some nebulous Other. It wasn't about a dead body, or a missing person, or even something less nefarious like a supposed ghost haunting a school.

Shinichi, for the first time he could remember, was the _victim_.

He wasn't sure how to handle that. Anger bubbled up a second later, but he didn't have a chance to put it into anything, so he left it smoldering alongside the confusion that was far more prominent, and the curiosity that was almost overwhelming.

"Your friends await you in the dining room, Kudou-san," the old man said, not unkindly.

Shinichi blinked. "Thank you, I was just heading there."

Konousuke-san turned and began to lead the way, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. Shinichi followed, lingering a few steps behind, out of a sense of nervousness and, of course, a need to observe. His hand, still on his shoulder, rubbed unconsciously for a moment before he forced it away and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Opening his mouth Shinichi tried to speak, but found the words wouldn't come. "I'm sure you'll be hungry, then," Konousuke-san said, almost cheerful. "The staff are quite pleased to be serving breakfast. It's not often that they need to bother."

Shinichi thought that rather odd statement was important. Still, at least it seemed to help him find his voice, and, despite the hesitance, he felt he spoke as strongly as ever. "Will Kuroba-san be joining us?"

Because that seemed important too.

The old man looked back at him, looked faintly surprised at the inquiry, then smiled faintly, a little sad. Before he answered though, they stepped into the dining room itself and his friends called happy greetings.

Shinichi wished he could return them. Instead, he felt faintly ill, a feeling that only increased when Ran smiled brightly at him. Skimming the faces present, he noted that Kuroba wasn't actually there. He felt a wash of relief that he didn't have to face the other boy right now, before his mind kicked into gear.

Something whispered that he hadn't been expecting to see him. Shinichi was very sure it was that annoying little part of himself that was insisting, rather vocally, that he'd been visited by a vampire last night. After all, vampires couldn't come out in the daylight, right?

Well, except for those ones in the books Ran's friend, Suzuki Sonoko, liked to go on about. Romanticized stupidity, all of it. But, then, who was he to claim he was an expert on _vampires,_ of all things? Of course, if this did turn out like that then maybe he _could_... But he wasn't going to go down that road. He needed more proof. Right now all he had was the possibilities that he had a lunatic in the same house as him, or _he_ was a suffering a serious psychotic breakdown.

After a moment longer, he finally moved forward and took the seat across the table from Hattori, leaving the Osakan detective sitting on one side of the table with Ran and Toyama-chan while he and Hakuba-san occupied the other. Ran looked puzzled, and faintly hurt, for a moment, before she asked, "Did you sleep well, Shinichi? You seemed pretty tired last night."

How could he, in the end, explain to her that he was feeling ashamed and a little guilty because he _didn't_ feel ashamed and guilty in the ways he thought he should? How could he tell her that last night someone may or may not have crawled into bed with him and touched him in ways no one else ever had, and that he'd, well, _enjoyed it_ a great deal? Shinichi could well imagine the heartbreak and betrayal in her eyes.

It wasn't through her own fault that she, just like everyone, bought into the fact that the pair of them were _meant_ to be together. Shinichi, of course, had never helped. He'd always just strung her along, unfair in his inability to act, and it had only gotten worse. Now he half wanted to tell her to stop waiting, because he was no longer sure of his own feelings– feelings that had once been the epitome of everything for him –but he didn't know _how_ to tell her, and didn't want to hurt her even though he knew that, no matter what he did, she_ would_ be hurt.

Shinichi summoned up a small smile, hoping it didn't look as sickly as he felt. "Very well. I think I was just feeling burnt out last night."

Ran frowned at him, looking like she was about ready to go into one of her little fits of scolding on how he needed to look after himself better, when the eerie staff, silent as they had been last night, drifted in with breakfast.

Omelets, rice, and a variety of drinks.

Shinichi chose fruit juice rather than his usual coffee, though he didn't much like the choice. Still, hopefully he hadn't lost enough blood that he was going to be anemic, and the amount of iron he ingested normally would be enough to even things out. It hadn't _looked_ like much, but... Who knows?

Determinedly, he ignored the weird looks he was getting and concentrated on digging into his meal. He hadn't realized how ravenous he was, even with his stomach feeling like an empty void, and it _was_ good food. He hadn't noticed last night, but now that he was paying attention to the food he found it to be extremely palatable. Then again, he probably would have found a lot rather palatable right then so long as it filled his stomach and provided the necessary calories to recharge.

And, well, there was another reason to wolf down his food like the manners he'd had drilled into him had suddenly been all but forgotten. He wanted a chance to explore this house before his friends decided it was time to get moving. Maybe even come up with an excuse to stay longer, as much as that thought made him both crawl with an odd anxiety, and heat with an undeniable excitement.

It was as the meal was coming to an end, that Shinichi, having tuned out the soft conversation around him and Hattori's numerous attempts to kick his shin black and blue, that Konousuke-san reappeared, followed by the staff who began clearing the dishes away around them.

"While you dined, I went to check the roads and am afraid to report that they seem quite impassable at the moment. The rain's left them nothing but mud. The young master would be pleased to let you all stay another night to wait for the road to clear."

That was... convenient... And, yet, Shinichi couldn't help but feel pleased that he wouldn't need to come up with something himself. Not only because he felt slightly awkward about doing so, but because he didn't know a plausible reason yet.

"Speaking of Kuroba-san," Hakuba-san spoke up, head inclined to nail the old man with a piercing look. "I've not seen him today, and I've been up since shortly after dawn."

"The young master is unavailable," Konousuke-san said easily. "But he hopes that you will all be joining him for the evening meal once again."

Shinichi wanted to laugh, because really, wasn't that just another vampiric thing? Can't go out in the sun, or you'll burn up. By now, with daylight giving his experiences and panic a whole new look, and being surrounded by the normality of his friends, such fanciful thoughts were seeming more and more stupid. Now, with daylight chasing monsters away– What was he? A child? Monsters in the closet, and under the bed... –logic was taking more of a firm grip.

He was sure that, in the end, this would only be the product of a twisted mind. That, however, didn't make him feel better in a way it should. In fact, it made him feel almost more ill, almost more...

"Feel free to wander the house or garden, but I must ask you to refrain from entering the west wing." Shinichi blinked, catching the tail end of whatever the old man had been saying.

While it chafed from a detective standpoint not to be allowed full access to the venue he was inspecting, he well understood the need to set up barriers and privacy. Still, perhaps it would be enough. While he highly doubted anything incriminating would be left in the more public parts of the home, he knew from experience that even things that the residents deemed unimportant could be extremely telling about their owners.

Ran and Toyama-chan were rising already, talking quietly about visiting the gardens, and Shinichi cast a glance at Hattori. Perhaps he should let the other detective in on his thoughts? The two of them _did_ make an extremely formidable team, and, really, hadn't Hattori himself felt that something was off the night before? That, however, had simply been nerves, and too many late night horror movie marathons as far as Shinichi could tell.

Something in the end stayed his tongue, and Shinichi stood as well, leaving Hattori glaring across the table at the calm, calculating face of Hakuba-san. Without bothering to say a thing to either of them, Shinichi left the dining room and headed back toward the foyer. For a moment he hesitated, considering back tracking and checking the rooms on the ground floor east wing, but changed his mind. They were obviously related to the staff and the dining areas. The most he would find were a laundry and kitchen, he suspected. While he could interview the staff, he decided to leave it for later.

He didn't want to admit that they gave him the chills.

Starting up the stairs, Shinichi went over his options. He already well knew that the top floor contained mostly bedrooms, guest rooms he supposed, though some of the other rooms could have other uses. So he would start on the middle floor. Coming to a halt on the first balcony, Shinichi wandered over to the windows overlooking the garden below. He could see Ran and Toyama-chan, sitting on a low stone bench. They two girls had their heads bent together and were talking rather furiously about something.

To be honest, Shinichi was fairly sure he didn't want to know.

Turning away from the window, he stepped toward the hall heading off into the east wing, but was brought up short to stare contemplatively at the large portrait of the Kuroba family. It was still a surprisingly placid, happy little scene. He wondered how the elder pair had died, and if it had any basis on the strange attitudes of their son. Which gave him an idea...

Changing course, Shinichi hurriedly climbed back to the third floor and headed down the hall to the room he was staying in. Once inside he made a beeline for the nightstand and his cell phone. Grabbing it, he flipped it open, only to scowl at the lack of signal. Making his way over to the balcony, in the vague hope that if he were out on it his phone might chance to pick something up, he unlatched the glass doors and stepped out.

He was immediately beset by the smell of rain-wet forest and garden; a combination of a heavy, mud smell and damp floral scent. The smell brought back the memory of last night all over again, and left him blushing like mad for what had to be the millionth time within the last hour or so.

Still... Checking his phone and finding it just as devoid as before, Shinichi tucked the device into his pocket and turned to look at the doors he'd just stepped through. Last night Kuroba had entered through those doors, he could remember that that simple fact had woken him up, and he recalled the doors had still been partially open this morning. Why, though?

It was sloppy, like his... assailant, for lack of better terms, had left in a hurry.

Slowly, Shinichi turned his gaze to either side. On the one side there wasn't another balcony for some distance, and to the other side he had a neighboring balcony that he suspected led to Hattori's room. Looking up proved there was nothing of interest above but for the slopes of the roof, as they were on the top floor. Stepping to the low wall of the balcony, Shinichi gripped the rail and leaned out over it, attempting to see what lay below.

"Shinichiiiii!"

Turning his head, Shinichi spotted Ran. The girl was standing on the small pathway, surrounded by the heavily nodding heads of various flowers; they looked like no more than vague dots of color among the riot of green. Ran herself, wearing a bright shirt, stood with one hand cupped alongside her mouth while she waved at him to assure he noticed her. Several steps away he could see Toyama-chan, apparently absorbed in the flowers she was examining.

Lifting his hand he returned the wave. "Hey Ran! What's the matter?"

She seemed to brace herself, and looked back at Toyama-chan for a moment, nodded, then called, "Why don't you come down here? The garden's really nice!"

It was obvious that Ran wanted him to join her, to spend time with her. This was, no doubt, one of those weird romantic things that he always overheard her and Sonoko chattering about. He was probably committing all kinds of nefarious bad points if he denied her, something Sonoko would surely let him know all about in her weird, evil, subtle, female ways.

But right now he had other things on his mind. "Maybe later, I want to have a look around inside first."

"Okay! But you better come out soon, Shinichi!" Her voice was both sad and threatening. Shinichi had no idea how she could manage that, and decided to leave the fact be.

Giving what he could see of the lower floor one last glance over, Shinichi pulled away from the edge of the balcony and stepped back into his room. Shutting the door behind him, he latched them and quit the room.

Now, where could he find Hattori? Surely if someone had used his room to get to Shinichi's, the Detective of the West would have noticed?

Without pause, he headed back down the stairs and swung into the hallway. While he'd last seen Hattori in the dining hall, he saw no reason not to check here first, as he wanted to have a look anyway. The first door he tried opened into a spacious, airy room with a wide bay of windows on one wall that showed a panoramic view of the sloping lawn, driveway, and forest. Soft sunlight floated in dust motes, giving everything a surreal, timeless, untouched quality. The light glanced, shimmering, off the body of a cello in one corner.

It was a music room. A grand piano took up another space, the lid closed, and looking untouched but for the clean condition. Various other cases and instruments were on display around the room: Violins, flutes, even a shamisen.

There was a silence to the room, and an odd sort of softness therein that seemed to embrace him, sooth him. It was tranquil, and made Shinichi want to languish in it despite the fact that, really, he wasn't musically inclined. Music was, in fact, one of his most immense failings. He winced slightly at the reminder, but couldn't help the rueful grin. Still, he wandered a few swaying steps further into the room.

Coming to a halt beside the piano, he reached out, fingers running lightly over the polished black surface of the instrument. A childish feeling swept over him, and he was just pondering lifting the lid to tap on a few of the keys, just because, when he noticed something he'd not seen before out of the corner of his eye.

Turning around, Shinichi came face to face with a painting. It was a serene scene: A green field with whimsical blue flowers bobbing among the carefully executed stalks. At the center of the image a young girl, who looked strikingly like Ran, sat. She was dressed in a deep blue, multi-layered kimono. She looked, quite simply, like a princess, out of place and settled among the blossoms. She wore a delicate wreath of the flowers on her head, among the messy strands of her dark hair, and one hand was extended as if to pluck another. Yet, despite that, her head was inclined back as she stared at the pale blue sky and soft clouds.

At first glance the image seemed serene, peaceful, and lovely, but Shinichi thought the look on the girl's face was one of wistfulness, sorrow; maybe he would even go so far as to say _mournful_. Sliding his eyes downward, he found a small, brass plate beneath the picture. It read simply: The Blue Child.

Shinichi thought it a rather fitting descriptor, so full of double meanings and poignancy.

The painting was lovingly detailed and exacting, and, to Shinichi it seemed as if whoever had had it commissioned, or indeed, whoever had painted it, had put a great deal of time, effort, and devotion into it. He turned away. The room no longer felt inviting. Now it seemed almost dark, almost miserable. As if his scrutiny of the painting had likewise cast aside the fake atmosphere, left it bare and abandoned as it truly was.

There was a musty scent to this room, stale and disused, as if it were truly forgotten where the rest of the house had seemed as normal as ever. Even the faint amount of dust moving in the air seemed to suggest an amount of neglect, and yet... Shinichi glanced at the painting again. Not a single amount of wear, or aging shown on it. The painting, alone, was as lovely as it had probably been when it was first hung there. No dust touched the fine edges of the frame, and the colors were mostly as vibrant as if they were freshly dried.

"Ah, Kudou-san, I didn't expect to find you here."

Despite the surprise from the sudden voice intruding on the solitude, Shinichi didn't jump, nor even turn to regard Konousuke-san as he wandered over to stand beside him. The old man was looking at the picture, and, from the corner of his eye, Shinichi could see a great depth of sadness on the old man's face.

"She was a sweet girl. The young master loved her dearly."

"Was?" Shinichi echoed.

"She died sometime before the young master's parents."

He wanted to say something about how Kuroba seemed to enjoy keeping pictures of dead people, just as his mind was reminded of those eerie serial killers who kept strange trophies. Somehow, though, that didn't fit what he was seeing here. Still, a traitorous voice murmured that Hakuba's father _had_ disappeared here. Had Kuroba run out of victims and begun inviting people in? Still, five years ago...

He didn't know how old Kuroba was, could only estimate he was around the same age as he was, but that didn't always mean anything. Breathing out through his nose he turned to leave, then stopped. Looking back he found the old man was still staring at the painting. "Konousuke-san? Do you know where my friend Hattori Heiji is?"

The old man seemed to shake himself from a trance, and responded lightly, "I believe he went to visit the library with Hakuba-san. It's here on this floor, a few doors down."

Without another word, Shinichi quit the room and made his way down to the library. Stepping through the double doors, one of which had been open, Shinichi found himself in a long, open room filled with wall shelves and free standing shelves. Though it didn't appear to have a second floor, it was plenty large enough.

Following the soft whisper sound of turning pages, Shinichi wandered through the stacks until he spotted Hattori lounging on a sofa in a small seating area among the books. When he arrived, he noted that the blond Hakuba was sitting at a nearby table, several folders and loose papers spread around him. Hattori wasn't bothering to read, but instead glaring over the top of his book at Hakuba-san.

Drifting over to his friend's side Shinichi stood over Hattori and waited for the other detective to acknowledge him. It didn't seem to be working.

"Hattori."

With a disgruntled sound the Osakan detective's green eyes slid over to look at him curiously. "Hey, Kudou?"

Completely ignoring Hakuba-san's presence, Shinichi forged ahead and asked, "Did anyone sneak into your room last night?"

Hattori was giving him a curious, puzzled, look. "No… Why? Did someone sneak into yers?"

That sharp eyed look was back on Hattori's face, and normally Shinichi would have been relieved to see it. But, right now. he didn't want Hattori digging too deeply. Maybe he never would.

Shinichi wasn't sure he wanted his friend to have any idea what happened last night. Absentmindedly, Shinichi reached up to lay his hand over the still tender puncture wounds.

"Hey, Kudou, you okay?"

Blinking down at Hattori, who had sat up and was giving him an odd look, Shinichi nodded. "Fine, just thinking about something."

"Well, you'll tell me what it is sometime won't you? I know normally we're on the same wave length, but I gotta admit you've lost me this time."

"Hm..."

Turning around, Shinichi headed back toward the shelves, ignoring the fact that he could feel two sets of eyes drilling into his back. "Ran wanted me to come out into the gardens."

It was as good an excuse to avoid Hattori as any, after all.

* * *


	4. Feeding

**PLEASE NOTE: This chapter contains mature content toward the end of the chapter. If you are uncomfortable reading it, you have been warned. **

* * *

**Feeding**

* * *

Shinichi couldn't taste anything he was eating, frankly, didn't have a clue what was on his plate before him. His mouth felt dry no matter how much he drank, and he'd never had the urge to fidget so much in his life. No matter what situations he'd been in, Shinichi had almost _always_ been in control. This sensation, this _uncertainty, _was driving him up a wall.

He wasn't hiding, not really. So what if, as soon as they'd entered the dining room and found Kuroba (And, wasn't it odd that he appeared only after the sun had gone down?) sitting in the same place he had the night before, Shinichi had chosen to sit at the far end of the table even as his friends had resumed similar seating to last night?

Shinichi hadn't budged after he'd made his choice, no matter how they looked at him, nor what they said. He could feel Kuroba's eyes on him, even now, in a way that made his skin crawl with unease, but also, he noted with some annoyance, tighten with excitement. The wood grain on the table really was fascinating, and the perspiration on his glass, the decimated remains of the meal he could barely even remember...

The sound of a chair scraping awakened him from his thoughts, and Shinichi glanced up to see if his friends were taking their leave, prepared to use any excuse to get himself out of here. Hell, at this point, he was wondering if he could somehow talk himself into staying in a room with one of the others as some form of security.

That feeling, like he couldn't take care of himself, made him bite his tongue more than anything, made him hunch his shoulders, and sink a little further into his seat.

Still, none of his friends had moved, in fact, the only person who _wasn't_ where they should be was...

"My, you don't seem very happy."

Kuroba.

_Don't look up, don't look up..._

The chair across from him slid back, the legs scraping softly on the floor, and Kuroba lowered himself to sit in it, filling Shinichi's field of vision with his upper chest, the line of his shoulders, and his gloved hands, folded neatly before his chin. Shinichi swallowed, clenched his jaw, as he remembered the feel of damp cloth on his chest, and the feel of almost too cold fingers around a more intimate part of his anatomy.

He dearly hoped he wasn't blushing as bad as he thought he was.

Kuroba chuckled, voice just this side of child friendly. It created a rather well known swooping feeling in Shinichi's guts, along with a shift in blood flow. Fuck.

One white gloved hand descended, pointer finger extended as Kuroba swirled it thoughtfully over the table. "Not feeling friendly?" he all but purred.

"You could say that," Shinichi growled, a scowl firmly in place.

He didn't like this: Didn't like someone having one up on him so completely. He glared, sharply, at Kuroba's red tie. It, definitely, was not a feeling he was at all used to. But, he didn't want to look into those disconcerting violet eyes, just the memory of what had happened the couple times he had was enough to make his pulse quicken.

Kuroba's hand flattened out on the table top, fingers partially splayed. It almost felt like a demand, and, almost in spite of himself, Shinichi found his head tilting upward slightly, following the line of a white clothed arm, to the slope of a shoulder, a pale neck, to a face so like his own.

The first thing he noticed was that, Kuroba didn't have the yellowed tint to his skin anymore: He looked _healthy_ now. The second thing he noticed was the way Kuroba was _looking_ at him. It made his stomach clench, made him inhale sharply. Kuroba looked like he wanted nothing more than to drag him onto the table, divest him, and see if he could make him come undone as completely as he had the night before despite the fact that they had an audience.

And, Shinichi realized, he probably wasn't as adverse to that idea as he really ought to be.

He didn't know what the hell was wrong with him, wished he'd stop feeling such conflicting thoughts. Hadn't he known the path his life was going to take for years? He'd grow up, be a detective, probably marry Ran, have a perfectly normal life where he solved murders, and generally did what he enjoyed in life, right?

There had never been any plans for, for... _whatever_ Kuroba was. Vampire, or lunatic, or cultist... He wasn't part of the equation, and, yet...

Kuroba's lips pulled into a smirk, and Shinichi could _swear_ he saw a flash of a much too long, much too sharp, tooth. "Are you enjoying your stay, Kudou-kun?"

Dry mouthed, Shinichi licked his lips, mouth parting on words that didn't come. He wasn't even aware he was leaning forward slightly, rising to meet the unspoken challenge, to meet Kuroba at whatever game he was playing. And, maybe, just maybe, it was out of interest too. He didn't know anymore, couldn't sort through the confusing play of emotion; wasn't even sure if he trusted his own emotions anymore.

"It has been... pleasant." He knew Kuroba had heard the slight stutter over the second half of the word 'pleasant,' and Shinichi flushed slightly. He'd almost said it had been pleasurable.Which it had, and he somehow _knew_ that Kuroba was subtly making a nod toward whatever that had been last night.

Why the hell was he getting thrown off his game so easily? Sure, Kuroba had a sort of overwhelming presence that just begged him to tilt his head back, and, and _submit_ as odd as that was, but...

Shinichi's scowl darkened in response to his own thoughts, and, more pointedly, the effect those thoughts had on his body. Honestly, he hadn't had this many problems with haywire hormones since the height of puberty.

Kuroba's look was, well, the only way Shinichi could describe it was _lascivious. _Then, he turned away and stood, voice faintly jovial as he asked, "Why don't we all retire to the sitting room since it isn't very late yet?"

As the group of them filed out, Kuroba keeping up a running commentary on something: Shinichi wasn't really listening, he could recognize filler when he heard it. It was all misdirection, probably to keep Hakuba-san from asking anything, as the blond was hovering near Kuroba's right elbow rather pointedly.

Toyama-chan and Ran followed on his left, and it was to the former who he spoke. Kuroba still seemed to be ignoring Ran's presence altogether. And, thinking back on the painting he had found in the music room, Shinichi wondered if Ran's likeness to the girl there bothered their strange host.

Hattori had fallen back, and was pacing alongside Shinichi like an angry bear, his hands tucked in his pockets and a scowl on his face. He, too, was watching Kuroba's back, but, unlike Shinichi who watched with a befuddled mixture of curious interest, anxiety, and unease, Hattori was scowling.

Shinichi was surprised that his glare wasn't palpable.

"I don't like all this interest he's showin' in Kazuha," Hattori growled, voice low and rough. "I don't like it one bit."

He had to swallow the half sick laughter that clawed at his throat, had to bite back the words that wanted to spill out: Kuroba had no interest in Toyama-chan, Shinichi well knew his interest lay elsewhere. He could feel himself starting to blush, and turned his head away to gaze at the décor. Instead he simply said, "I don't think you have anything to worry about."

The sitting room was a nice enough room as things went, and Hakuba-san made a beeline for a chess set settled in one corner. He appeared intent on setting up a game against himself. The two girls wandered over to the large fireplace taking up a portion of one wall, and started whispering to each other as they gazed at the pictures on the mantle.

Kuroba, like the eye of a storm, had settled himself into a chair. Shinichi could feel eyes on him again, as he lingered near the door. He wanted nothing more than to excuse himself and get out of Kuroba's unnerving presence. He started, violently, when Hattori nudged him slightly.

Swinging his head around to give his surprised friend a, slightly, wide eyed look, Shinichi tried to calm his heart.

"Why're you so jumpy, Kudou?" Hattori demanded, voice a mere hiss between his teeth. "You've been actin' weird all day!"

That same conundrum reared its ugly head again. He could use this chance, bring Hattori into his confidence, and tell him what was going on. There was no one else really close enough to hear them, but, yet...

Shinichi reached up, laying his hand over his shoulder and rubbed absently. He couldn't help but wonder what Hattori would think of him if he did tell him what had happened. It wasn't hard to see that, even now, Hattori idolized him a little bit. Sure, they were more friends than anything, but it had taken ages to get the Detective of the West to stop seeing him as some sort of rival and idol.

In fact, it had taken Shinichi nearly blowing a case, and Hattori catching the mistake, for the Osakan to realize that Kudou Shinichi was just as human as the rest of the world. Given, Shinichi hadn't even seemed to have realized that either. It hadn't been one of his best moments, that's for sure.

And, now there was this. _This_ wasn't just him being human, this was Kudou Shinichi being the victim of what amounted to, more or less, sexual assault. He didn't even want to try and qualify the wound and apparent penchant for drinking blood.

Shinichi, frankly, wasn't sure what upset him more: The fact that, quietly, he could admit he'd enjoyed Kuroba's touch and, quite frankly, was craving for more, or the fact that he wasn't more upset.

Pressing his lips together he muttered, "It's nothing. I'm just feeling restless."

Hattori's green eyes narrowed further, searing him with a sharp, reading, look that made Shinichi collapse in on himself. The Osakan opened his mouth, prepared to, no doubt, force him to tell the truth, when a voice hailed them, "Hattori-kun, Kudou-kun, why don't the two of you join us?"

Looking over they found Kuroba sitting in the same chair he had been in, but Ran and Toyama-chan had taken up space on the couch nearby. Kuroba himself was holding a fan of cards in one gloved hand. Shinichi hesitated, eyes flickering about as though searching for an excuse to leave and seclude himself for the remainder of their stay. The weight of Hattori's gaze, however, drove him to step forward wordlessly, and sink into the chair across from Kuroba, leaving space for Hattori to sit next to Toyama-chan.

The next few hours passed in a blur of card games Shinichi didn't pay attention to, and conversation he barely heard. He spent the entire time surreptitiously observing Kuroba, and knew that, despite Kuroba's apparent interest in both the game and showing off a few card tricks as things went, a great part of his attention was on _him_.

It was increasingly unnerving the way Kuroba watched him with predatory eyes, and a sort of ceaseless, inhuman, intensity. By the time Ran began yawning, Shinichi's skin was practically crawling as he fidgeted restlessly in his seat. Hattori was watching him, he could feel that too, and, right then, he wanted nothing more than to hide.

Still, he forced his voice to remain as calm and steady as always and said, "We should probably turn in."

Ran blinked sleepily at him, then sat up in surprise as her eyes sought out a rather ornate clock on a nearby wall. "Wow, it's already so late..."

"And we still gotta find our way tomorrow," Hattori pointed out, drolly, as he stood.

Kuroba sat back in his chair, idly shuffling the cards and flipping them around in neat, quick, movements. "I bid you all goodnight then, and sweet dreams."

"Goodnight." The blond, nearly forgotten in his silent insistence to be left to his solo chess game, called to them.

Shinichi didn't bother to say a word, and simply left the room as hastily as he could without causing further alarm. However, as he reached the staircase the sound of Ran's voice calling his name made him pause. Shinichi looked back to see Ran looking at him with a concerned expression.

"Ran?"

A frown tugged at her lips, but Shinichi's attention drifted from her, looking passed her and his friends, to see Kuroba leaning against the door frame, half of his face in shadow. It struck him, then, as he took in Kuroba's stance, arms crossed in his reclining posture, that Kuroba exuded an unstoppable sense of sensuality, mystery, and danger. Charming, suave, enigmatic... Shinichi could understand, just then, why his mind continued to jump through hoops about the vampire thing.

If anyone fit the vampire formula, it was Kuroba Kaito.

A soft hand on his wrist brought him back to himself, and, for a moment, he thought he saw an annoyed scowl flicker into place on Kuroba's face, before he turned away, distracted by Hakuba-san approaching him with a question. Shinichi dropped his gaze, to look at Ran. Her brows were neatly furrowed, her lips pursed into a concerned frown, and her eyes bright.

"I've been calling your name for the past few minutes," She said, almost accusingly. Shinichi felt dazed that he'd been spacing out so long. "Are you _sure_ you're alright?"

"I..." He started, voice trailing off as he realized he wasn't sure whether or not he was alright. On the one hand he shouldn't be, but on the other the only problems he had was an acute case of embarrassment where Kuroba was concerned, that, however, only seemed to stem from the rather... sexual... encounter he'd had with the other boy, rather than the circumstances.

Shinichi thought he should be upset about Kuroba invading his bed, and laying his hands on his body like that, should be disturbed by the fact that either Kuroba was a lunatic, or a member of the walking dead, but he just _wasn't_.

Maybe, in the end, he _wasn't_ okay. Maybe Shinichi was as mentally fractured as his logical, detective mind wanted to say Kuroba was.

He pulled his hand away from her and started up the stairs again, without an answer, because he didn't have one to give. In the end, he just wanted to go to bed, and forget for a few hours that any of this was happening. He didn't like this feeling, like he was spiraling out of control and had nothing to hold onto.

Not even the concerned stares drilling into his back stopped him as he sought his bed for the night. Though, as he crossed the balcony he glanced down, met a half-lidded violet gaze that watched him with hungry tenacity, and shivered.

As soon as he was in his room, Shinichi collapsed back against the door, eyes closed, and breathed slowly. His hand lifted, fingers shakily sifting through his fringe. Looking up, his eyes flickered frantically over the room, taking in the way the moonlight pooled on the floor, and lit the darkest corners with a pallid glow even as it sent other, soft, shadows lancing off around the room.

With a groan, he levered himself away from the door and stepped over to the bed, falling onto the covers, without even bothering to get ready for bed. As soon as his head touched the pillow, he was asleep.

* * *

Shinichi rolled over, his eyes slitting open as wakefulness forced itself upon him. He groaned, twisted, stretched and brought his watch up, and pressed a button to light the face so he could read the numbers. He'd barely been asleep for an hour and a half. Despite that, and despite the previous exhaustion that had all but numbed him, mind and body, Shinichi felt restless.

His skin itched, and his joints ached with the need to move. A deep seated feeling in the pit of his stomach drove him to get up, to pace, to move, to do _something_. For a moment, he grit his teeth, fighting against the sensation only to find it growing stronger, almost overwhelmingly so.

Rolling over again he buried his face in his pillow, curling his legs up and wrapping his arms over his head. The restlessness continued to grow until he could _swear_ he could hear something, like a whisper from the next room, or just outside his door, bidding him to come, to follow. He curled into a tighter ball, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to ignore it. His logical mind was a mess, and he didn't know any longer what would be worse: Dealing with the supernatural or facing the fact that he was, apparently, loosing his mind completely.

The multitude of shadowy whispers grew, though he couldn't make out a word that was being said. It pressed at his ears, and entered his mind, and made the itch to move grow stronger until, with a soft snarl, Shinichi rolled over and sat up. He'd just get up, and change into something more comfortable.

He paused, for a moment, teeth worrying his lower lip, and stood walking over to the balcony doors. Leaning against them he stared out into the blackness of the garden below, seeing only the faint outlines of plants turned from green to silver in the moonlight. His fingers absently plucked at the top button of his shirt, sliding it through the hole, and back again a few times before moving down to the next one.

Licking his lips, he fought against the urge to go out there, and lifted his eyes toward the sky. There were more stars visible than he was used to seeing thanks to the cities light pollution, but, here, in this corner of nowhere distant from the larger city clusters the stars were far more visible.

Sliding his hand under his shirt, fingers slipping over his clavicle, he angled his hand up around the side of his neck and laid his palm over the faintly tender puncture marks. Sliding his fingers over the sensitive skin, the cloth of his shirt rasping against the back of his hand, he winced slightly.

Turning away, he began to head back toward the bed when, without really any conscious thought on the matter, his path deviated and carried him to the door. He was out into the hall before he'd really even noticed.

Trying to get things back under his control, and feeling strangely helpless and light headed, he firmly told himself that he was merely going to the bathroom before going back to bed. Yet, no matter how much he insisted upon that fact his steps carried him quietly passed the bathroom door.

His footsteps shuffled softly across the carpet as he descended the stairwell. The eerie silence of the manor house only seemed to have increased in the darkness that had fallen within the walls. Thick shadows clung to every corner, and everything seemed alive. The colors of the daylight hours had given way to the dull monotones of the night, making him shiver faintly.

He stepped off the last step into the foyer, and followed the halls passed the sitting room and the dining room, to the doors that opened onto the garden. Pausing only to tug his shoes on, relocated there when he'd made the trip out to meet up with Ran and Toyama-chan earlier in the day.

A soft chill met the skin exposed by his partially open shirt, and made goosebumps prickle across his arms. For a moment Shinichi paused, hesitating and fighting the pull that was whispering to him to delve further into the gardens. The sweet scent of blooming plants filled his nose, a heavy floral perfume, and he stepped forward onto the flagstone path that wound among the thickly, almost wildly, growing greenery.

Though he had no idea where he was going, his feet seemed to be following some predetermined path that lead him deeper and deeper into the more tangled parts of the garden. The stones of the pathway soon faded away into nothing but dirt, and, ahead of him, the edge of the forest loomed closer. Just like that first night, when they had stopped at the fork in the road, it was much too silent. The darkness seemed to be more alive than anything else, almost oppressively so.

Skirting the edge of the forest he followed it toward the west side of the building, before the path deviated and headed in between the trees itself, and, again, he hesitated. Shinichi's logical thinking mind was practically begging him to turn back now, to forget any of this had ever happened, but it wasn't his logical mind that was really in control.

It was swamped under the undeniable press of whatever was leading him, as well as Shinichi's own curiosity, and that slowly growing craving that had been sitting at the back of his mind the entire day. No matter how much he tried to deny it, to ignore it, he _wanted_– would almost go so far as to say _needed_ –to feel that white hot, all consuming, burst of pleasure again. It was like nothing else he'd ever felt.

No matter how stupid that thought seemed to be, he couldn't deny that the thought was there, and, with his mind pleasantly hazy, it was far more prominent than ever.

Shinichi blinked blankly at the massive tree he'd come to a stop before. He could barely remember the trip there let alone _why_ he'd ended up _outside_ of all places. The tree's knotted roots twisted over rocks they'd broken through, the branches heavily leafed, but, what really called his attention, was the person lounging against the curved trunk.

Kuroba reclined there, like a massive predacious cat. There was a grin on his face that, rather than make his blood run cold, made it heat. A grin that showed his teeth, those _fangs_, stretching across his lips in a lazy curve. One hand cupped the side of his face, white gloved fingers half disappearing into the wild locks of his hair. The moonlight bounced off his eyes creating specs of glowing green, like a cats or an owls, in the shadows that hovered around his face.

The white suit coat was open, revealing the deep navy shirt beneath, and the tie gone. He looked halfway to debauchery, with his other arm, rested against the gnarled curve of another branch, and his parted legs were sprawled out before him. It was like he was just waiting for Shinichi so he could complete the picture. He looked languorous and dangerous all at one glance. Shinichi didn't know whether it would be better to fear him, or desire him. Though, from the reactions his body was already having to the heated glance trailing lazily up him, he didn't think he had much of a choice.

"I'm so glad you could join me, Kudou-kun," Kuroba purred.

Shinichi stepped forward another pace, swaying slightly, and wondered if he should run, but his pulse was beating a steady thrum in his ears. "Kuroba," he rasped, barely recognizing his own voice through the constriction of his throat, and the slight huskiness lacing his tone in memory.

Kuroba's grin widened further, though Shinichi wasn't sure how that was possible. "Come here," he crooned. "I'll give you what you want, anything you want."

He meant to ask Kuroba what he thought he wanted, how he _knew_ what Shinichi wanted (Though, maybe that was obvious), but, instead, he found himself swaying forward, hypnotized, like a mouse facing a viper. A moth to an open flame, he was attracted to Kuroba's languid form, until, in the next moment, he felt his knees hitting dirt and rock and realized, with blushing shock at his audacity, that he was straddling the white dressed boy's lap.

With a soft thump Kuroba's head fell back, his hair falling wild around his face, as he grinned at him, like a cheerful monster, and settled his gloved hands on Shinichi's hips. Kuroba's thumbs slid upward, pushing beneath his shirt and rasping, cool, across his skin in a way that made Shinichi's breath hiccup in his throat.

"What are you–" He meant to ask 'What are you doing to me?' but the question died a quick death in his throat as Kuroba's hand flattened against his back, and slid up to cup the nape of his neck in a firm grip that pressed him down. Shinichi had a moment to feel uneasy in regards to Kuroba's fangs before their lips met, and an insistent, cold, tongue forced its way into his mouth.

A shudder wracked Shinichi's body from low in his spine, until it crawled through all of his limbs. His hands came up, settling to either side of Kuroba's face, and slid back to knot in hair that felt rather coarse to the touch. It reminded him of a stray cat he'd dealt with once, on a case, so unlike the pampered silky felines who were petted and dotted on by their owners. Beneath his fingers Kuroba's scalp was cool to the touch.

He was looking straight into heavy lidded eyes, dark and light all at the same time. The kiss was slow, messy, tentative on his side, as Kuroba changed the game and drew his tongue into his mouth in want for more. The feel of fangs scraping gently against the sensitive sides made his eyes drifted closed, and a soft hum well up in his throat.

The kiss broke, a chilly nose nudging along the underside of his jaw like a seeking kitten. Lips moved, dragging half-kisses across his skin even as the tip of a tongue darted out, touching lightly, teasing and testing, against the throb of his pulse. The hand resting against the back of his neck slid down, a slow petting stroke, and came to rest on the small of his back, urging him to press down in a roll of his hips that teased his developing erection.

Kuroba's own hips pressed up in response, and Shinichi gasped, mind spinning as he remembered last night. He hadn't felt, not then, but now...

He remembered Kuroba had looked healthy, the blood on the sheets and...

"Stay..." Kuroba whispered against the hollow of his throat, and Shinichi could feel every faint motion of his cool, slick, lips as they moved against his skin. "I can give you eternity, the tears from the witch's heart, the heart I cut out with my own hands. Anything..."

Almost achingly cold hands stroked slowly up Shinichi's sides, pushing the fabric of his shirt upward. One skated down again, resting like a demanding weight against the base of his spine to encourage the continuance of their lazy rocking. The other slid down his stomach, and pulled free to begin pulling open the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

Shinichi's own hands tugged Kuroba's head up, tilting him away from his throat, making him hiss in faint displeasure, before Shinichi dragged him into a drugging kiss. Slipping his hands downward, Shinichi slid them beneath the lapels of the white suit coat, moaning softly at the feel of too sharp teeth scraping over his lower lip. Kuroba pulled away slightly, a single 'breath' fanning against Shinichi's lips and cheek. It smelled cloying, he thought, like death with a hint of iron that he recognized all too well. Like the aftertaste of a crime scene, cleaned up but not forgotten.

His hand slid down, resting on Kuroba's chest while the other pressed against the side of his neck, seeking, haphazardly, for signs of life. There was nothing: No flutter of a pulse, no rapid thump of a heart, and no rise and fall of breathing. Shinichi wondered if he should be more disturbed by this, but all he could think about right then was the ache in his groin, and the way it felt when Kuroba rocked up against him.

Kuroba's gloved hands came around, sliding up his bared chest and over his shoulders, even as Kuroba leaned forward, cheek rubbing against Shinichi's like a happy cat. Shinichi's shirt slid down his arms, catching at his elbows as he refused to move them, intent on the interesting feel of life and death wrapped into a single, enigmatic, form beneath his hands. Kuroba nuzzled just beneath his ear then slid his lips downward, tracing his fluttering pulse with a smirk.

Shinichi brought one hand up, palm flat as it mapped the curve of Kuroba's skull, fingers sifting through coarse hair, to rest near the crown of his head. One of Kuroba's hands slid down, palming a nipple with fabric warmed from Shinichi's own body heat. Shinichi let his head fall back, lips parting to draw in air as the combination of sensations drove him farther out of his mind.

Fangs scraped over the curve of his shoulder, too light to do anything more than raise faint red welts, but enough to make him twist and whisper what sounded like a plea for more. Lips sliding downward, pausing to nibble and suck at his clavicle, before drifting lower and surrounding his other nipple in an interesting mixture of heat and corpse cold. The hard lines of Kuroba's too long canine teeth pressed into his skin, scraping and inflaming. A tongue slipped out, flattening and licking, and Shinichi arched his back, gasping, and tightened his fingers in Kuroba's coarse, dark hair while the fingers of his other hand tightened convulsively on the other boy's shoulder.

Kuroba all but purred against him, reaching down between them to pop the button on Shinichi's pants free, the zip sliding down with a careful rasp, before a gloved hand plunged in to pull, and tug, and gently squeeze. Beneath his ass, Kuroba shifted his legs, settling further on his perch, and pulling Shinichi toward him. With a move that sent him sliding further against the cradle of Kuroba's stomach and hips, Kuroba surged upward, rubbing up against him and making Shinichi groan and shift restlessly.

Slick and tantalizing, Kuroba's tongue slid back up his skin, a delicate little kiss pressing against the crook between shoulder and neck, and then the scrape of fangs again. He knew what was coming, even as Kuroba seemed to deliberate, and Shinichi held his breath for a moment, letting it out as a puff of a gasp, before repeating. His face flushed with arousal he waited, wanting. Kuroba's gloved hand continued to lazily stroke over him, the material dampening with precum.

Restlessly, Shinichi moved his free hand down, keeping the other braced against the back of Kuroba's head, and began to slide the buttons of Kuroba's navy shirt free. His knuckles brushed against skin that was far too cold, and Shinichi shivered, held on the edge of trembling with anticipation and anxiety.

Then, Kuroba bit, his fangs sliding slick and fast through flesh and muscle, and skin, and drawing a slow swell of blood to leak out around them. Shinichi jerked, back arching, even as Kuroba's other hand reached around to rest, beneath his loose shirt, on the small of his back, and press Shinichi to him, trapping his cock between them with the rasp of glove and shirt against sensitive skin.

Shinichi writhed, pain flaring and shooting sparks from the bite along his body; sparks going off at the base of his skull, and twisting rapidly over every nerve ending. Kuroba growled, a sound low in his throat that gurgled faintly with the blood that was sliding down his gullet.

Letting his head fall back again, Shinichi gasped, throat working soundlessly, eyes half open as a hazy mixture of pain and pleasure flowed through him like an irresistibly intoxicating drug. Kuroba rolled his hips up, a sound of muffled pleasure seeping against Shinichi's skin, even as the feel of a cloth covered cock pressed and rubbed against his ass. He breathed out swear words as the hand around his erection tightened slightly, pulled. His own voice sounded breathy and foreign in his ears.

"Sh-Shinichi!"

That voice pierced the daze he was in, half mindless with pleasure, and Shinichi's eyes widened, head tilting toward the source– Pulling his skin tight as he twisted, making the place where Kuroba's fangs still pierced hurt and ache –he stared at Ran. The girl stood, hand over her mouth in shocked surprise, while Toyama stood beside her, gripping her arm, and staring, mouth rounded into an soundless 'oh' of shock. He wanted to say something, to tell them to get out of here, anything, but he couldn't think clearly enough.

Kuroba loosened his fangs from his flesh, baring his teeth at the two girls, all slick and white and marked with the vivid red of Shinichi's blood. He looked feral, hair mussed from Shinichi's own hands, and, when he spoke, his voice was more dark and guttural than the usual lilting cadence, "Get out of here."

Ran, lips trembling, forced herself to take another step forward. Shinichi dropped his hands, pressing against Kuroba's shoulders in an attempt to get free, but it merely resulted in the arm around his waist tightening. Kuroba gave his cock another steady stroke, and Shinichi felt the tension fall from his muscles as pleasure burned through him, a shameless moan leaked from his lips even as his head dropped forward to rest on Kuroba's shoulder.

He flushed, wondering what he must look like, but not even caring as much as he probably should. Kuroba laughed a dark laugh, and rocked his hips up against him, rubbing and pressing without shame.

"Stop that!" Ran snarled. Shinichi noted, between gasps for air, that she sounded furious. "Let him go, you... you freak!"

A tongue swiped along his shoulder gathering blood and sweat. "I don't think he wants to be let go." Then, almost mockingly, Kuroba asked, "Do you, Shin-i-chi?"

"Oh, fuck," Shinichi groaned helplessly into Kuroba's shoulder, unable to articulate anything, but that seemed oddly appropriate, and, right then, he really didn't care so long as Kuroba _didn't stop_. And, fuck, the sound of his _name_...

"Go away," Kuroba repeated. "Before I make you." Then his lips were back on the bleeding punctures, suckling like a content kitten, his hand, wound around Shinichi's back to rest on his hip, even seemed to pet and clutch like a knitting cat.

Silently, some part of his mind begged Ran to heed the warning, to just go away before something happened because, really, he had no idea what Kuroba was capable of, but he _knew_ she wouldn't.

Distantly, he heard, "Ran, come on, we should..."

"No! I won't leave Shinichi to... to that _thing!_"

Footsteps came toward them, and, though he could barely think, Shinichi twisted away enough, tried to collect enough of his mind. "Ran," he gasped, panting. "Just..."

Kuroba snarled against him, pulling him in close, and it almost _hurt_, and Shinichi heard the sound of something hitting the ground, glanced hazily to the side to see Kuroba's palm against the dirt and stone and breathed the scent of sex and blood through heavy gulps as coarse hair tickled his cheek.

Then, behind him there was a gasping scream, and horrible yipping sounds. Shinichi tilted his head, twisting to try and see. Kuroba's face was blank, like it had been cut from stone, and his grip tightened again, clutching Shinichi to him. Still, Shinichi could see, see that behind him strange _creatures_ were breaking through the earth. They looked like dogs, made more of bone and half rotted flesh than anything. Ran was back pedaling quickly, screaming in horror as Toyama half dragged her back.

Despite that, she was still protesting, still refusing to leave him behind. Shinichi wanted nothing more than to tell them to run. Swallowing he tried again to get the words out, but they rasped and caught in his throat as Kuroba rubbed against him, stimulating him as well, and making the world spark and lurch for a moment.

Instead, he clutched the... the vampire's shirt, panted wetly into the crook of his neck, and _begged_, "Please... Don... don't.."

"Shhhh," Kuroba soothed, his hand sliding down his spine then back up. "I won't kill them, just drive them away." On the next upward path his hand caught in his hair, and Shinichi found himself staring into a blood smeared face and dark violet eyes. "I promise."

The next thing he knew was pleasure, sharp as barbed wire, as it flared through him, white hot, and left him mindless and writhing. Faintly, he felt Kuroba dip his head back to his neck, but nothing seemed to matter anymore other than the pleasure singing through him, undoing him, tearing him apart and piecing him back together.

* * *

"Ran-chan, _please_," Kazuha, half sobbed. She tugged futilely on the other girls shirt, she could feel tears leaking down her cheeks, escaping in spite of herself, as she watched the horrible canine effigies prowl toward them with grinning skulls and glowing eyes. The unnatural sound of yipping and growling seemed completely out of synch with their movements, like an after image.

"I can't leave him!" Ran yelled, looking half out of her mind.

Kazuha could understand, she really could, if that had been _Heiji_... but... "Ran-chan we can't _do_ anything!" she hated the way her voice was half wail, knew she was stronger than this. "Its... it..."

Her voice dropped off in a scream as one of the dog things lunged forward with cacophony of snarling barks that rang and echoed around them. It's claws caught and tore along her arm, sending her falling backwards into the dirt and brush, and away from Ran. She could hear a familiar yell as the other girl brought a hand down across the spine of the creature who had attacked them, followed by an ear splitting yelp as its spine snapped.

Kazuha gave a surprised squeal as the bone seemed to knit back together, held in place by tendons and bits of flesh. The creature writhed on the ground screeching and crying its pain. She clutched her arm, feeling the warm stickiness of blood beneath her fingers, and stumbled back to her feet. As she edged back she noticed Ran was looking far less sure of herself now that she'd seen her trademark karate hadn't worked.

The canines seemed to be incensed by the wounding of their companion if the increased yipping was anything to go by. They slunk before them, pacing restlessly, and making small charges that made both girls jump with fright.

Finally, the one Ran had downed made it back to its paws, stumbling and shaking itself, bone jaw rotating and adjusting. Its glowing eyes seemed to zero in on them, and a second later it charged again, its yipping baying companions following up behind it like an excited pack of hunting dogs after a fox.

Kazuha head herself scream, turned to run, and promptly tripped over a protruding root. She fell hard to the ground, letting out a yelp and a sob. Kazuha knew she was a strong girl, stronger than most, and one who could put up a fight, but this situation was so far beyond natural that she didn't even _know_ where to begin.

Rolling over she yelped as one of the things bore down on her, Ran was screaming to her, trying to get to her as she kicked the dogs out of the way with all the force of her karate training, and Kazuha just wished her Aikido had covered what to do in the face of zombie dogs.

It was right there, mutilated jaws open, then, just as it seemed like it was going to rip her throat out, the creature hobbled backwards, screeching and smoking, the flesh melting off its bones. It shook its head from side to side like a wounded dog. Kazuha lay still, staring and gasping, chest heaving, and wondered...

She glanced down, only to find her precious omamori had slipped out from beneath her shirt and was putting off a faint glow. Wide eyed, the girl scrambled back to her feet, pulled the charm off, and wrapped it around her wrist. Holding it out in front of her, she wielded it like a shield to keep the yipping, hissing, beasts away from her.

"Ran!" she yelled, searching frantically for the other girl. They were separated, cut off like deer being hunted by wolves. "My charm!"

Kazuha knew one thing, she _had_ to get to her friend. She had the best weapon against them now, it seemed, and she _had_ to protect Ran. But, she _couldn't_ because the space between them was growing.

It was then, as the creatures clustered in closer around Ran, threatening and growling, that a high, piercing whistle swept through the air. Moments later, on its heels came the relentless scream of a hunting bird. A hawk flashed down, small, compared to the beasts attacking them, but dangerous all the same.

The bird raked its talons over one of the creatures' faces, going for eyes that weren't there, and continued low over head, wings working to drag it back into the sky for another sweep.

"Come on, run!" A familiar, but new, voice called. Kazuha looked back toward Ran, and saw that Hakuba Saguru, the strange blond they had met here, had appeared from the trees and grabbed her friends arm, tugging her insistently toward the forest. His eyes met hers, lips twisted into a steady frown. "Get out of here, I'll take care of Mouri-san! You need to warn your other friend that you _have_ to leave this place!"

Right, she needed to warn Heiji!

Turning Kazuha made a run for the manor house, glancing back only once. The last view of the other two she had was Hakuba forcing Ran into the forest with the pack of mutated dogs baying at their heels.


	5. Flight

**Flight**

* * *

The blond's hand was looped tightly around her wrist as they ran, him a few steps ahead of her with his other arm held up to ward off the branches that whipped his arm and scratched against his cloths. She could even see a faint red welt on his cheek where one branch had come back to scratch him there. His grip was tight, almost painful, but she paid it no mind, her attention, for the most part, was on her feet. There was no real path that her rescuer seemed to be following, and, instead, he was winding through the trees with a single minded determination of someone who had spent much time here.

Ran thought to ask, but thought better of it. It was smarter to save her breath for running from those yipping, baying, screaming creatures following them with an unerring sort of focus. The steady jarring thump of her footfalls, and the ragged sound of her breath was too loud in her ears, adding further to the anxiety gripping her chest as she thought back on the sight she had seen.

_Shinichi_...

The boy that she had known pretty much her entire life, and loved at least half of that, in the arms of that monster in human skin. Weren't vampires supposed to be in that Transylvania place, somewhere in Europe? Never mind the fact that they weren't supposed to crawl out of horror films and stories, to be _real_.

To be honest Ran wasn't sure what bothered her more: The fact that there _was_ a vampire, or the fact that... Shinichi really hadn't seemed to be fighting to get away from him so much as to tell her to _leave_. Part of her wanted, desperately, to believe it was because he wanted her safe, wanted to protect her, and maybe that was so, and yet... She couldn't help but think, with just a bit of vicious annoyance, that he certainly seemed to have been enjoying the attention the vampire was paying him.

But, Ran didn't want to think of that right now, no matter that the image of Shinichi writhing in the creature's grasp, sweat soaked and flushed, was emblazoned on her mind's eye.

She stumbled slightly, feet catching on roots and rocks and underbrush, and yelped. Hakuba tugged her forward, keeping her going and as steady as possible.

"Come on, Mouri-san, we can't stop now," he urged.

"But," she whispered, voice weak and trembling in a way she rarely ever heard.

"Not now," Hakuba barked glancing back and picking up his pace.

Ran, too, looked back and swallowed a horrified scream at the sight of those _things_ jumping nimbly over a fall of large boulders they had rounded not long ago, and flowing along the small, barely there, pathways between the trees. A flash of paler color in the darkness of the forest heralded the hawk on a return attack, it screeched, slashing across the space between them and maneuvering expertly among the tree trunks, claws raking and harrying the monstrous hounds.

She couldn't help but wonder, a bit out of her mind, how the creature could see. Weren't hawks mostly diurnal? Yet, this one seemed to be having no problems whatsoever. Ran couldn't really say she minded, as, where its claws struck, the bone and flesh of the zombie hounds began to sizzle and melt. It reminded her of Kazuha's omamori, and Ran vowed to look into more charms when she got out of this.

It was never if.

"This way."

The soles of her shoes skidded on the ground, kicking loose small pebbles and twigs as she nearly lost her balance when Hakuba changed direction sharply, dragging her along a narrow path overlooking a ditch of sorts in which thick rocks lay, a stream that was barely more than a trickle of water ooze between them.

The two of them edged along it, Hakuba finally releasing her wrist so they could balance more easily. Rocks and brush to the other side provided something of a handhold, but it wasn't much. Ahead of them she could see an area where the rocks in the stream bed met with their path creating a sort of natural bridge they could use to cross to the other side. As they reached it, Hakuba scrambled down the slight slope onto the first of the rocks and turned, reaching up and back to help her down as well.

As soon as they reached the far side they paused for a moment, catching their breath and assessing the situation, though it didn't take long to see that the terrain wasn't as troublesome for their pursuers as it had been for them. The hounds scrambled over the rocks and along the path, some jumped or fell into the ditch and bound over the rocky bottom without pause, and while the hawk was doing its best to stall them, it was but a single creature.

"Damn it."

The soft swear brought Ran to look at the boy, his blond hair mussed and sticking to his temples with sweat, and his lips thin in a pale face. "Hakuba-san?" she asked.

He had seemed like such a cool and collected person back in the manor house, and even before, but now he actually looked worried and, frankly, that scared Ran more than she wanted to admit. Though, as she watched the first boney head peek over the lip of the drop, she decided she would fight to whatever bitter end.

Beside her, Hakuba swung his head to the side, eyes flickering around them, and obviously thinking, calculating. Ran took up a stance that had been so honed into her body's muscle memory it was second nature. The first of the hounds crawled onto the edge, half rotted paws scrabbling for purchase, and above her the hawk screamed, stooped, and dove.

Ran lashed out, catching the creature in its rib cage in a blow that sent it flying back into the others coming up behind it, the force of e collision made them fall, screaming and yipping, back into the ditch.

"Good work, Mouri-san," Hakuba murmured in wry appreciation, and Ran couldn't help but laugh at his tone.

"Why, thank you," she replied, watching the hawk flash by and pull back up out of its dive.

"I think..." he trailed off, and snagged her wrist again, tugging her toward the trees clustering nearby. "Come on, just a little further and I think we can lay low."

The unspoken 'I hope' was not missed by Ran, but she didn't comment on it. Instead she simply let him lead her deeper into the forest. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the pale, ghost like, image of the hawk swerving through the trees like a it were a skier on a slalom course. Something about the bird gave her a rather 'not right' feeling, something she'd been experiencing a lot lately.

Ran only wished she had actually listened to that instinct: Wished she had listened when she felt there was something wrong with Shinichi when he'd failed that case a few months ago, wished she'd listened when he'd started acting listless and distancing himself from them, wished she'd listened when something had told her to insist they leave this place as soon as she'd laid eyes on it.

They stumbled to a halt, gasping, before Hakuba darted off the slim game trail they had been following and into the dense brush, shoving mindlessly through the branches. Ran could feel the grasping arms of the vegetation catching in her cloths, hair, and scratching across her skin, but she ignored it, doggedly following the boy before her.

The ground beneath their feet was a slight slope, the incline increasing the farther they went, and the brush thickening further and further. Soon enough it was little more than bits of thorny branches clutching together. Ran couldn't see how they were going to get anywhere, was sure they were trapped, when Hakuba dropped down onto his knees and started shoving aside dirt and dead leaves. The hawk landed on the branches above their head, making sharp staccato sounds, and flicking its wings. Ran eyed the dangerous bird warily, watching its beak gape as it panted.

Those fierce golden eyes seemed to have a strange golden glow to them. The hawk's head bobbed, turned away, and it jumped into flight again. Moments later she could hear the keening yelps of the creatures pursuing them.

"Mouri-san?" The way he called her brooked nothing but her full attention, and Ran brought her gaze back to the kneeling blond. "Through here, and be careful, there are some rocks in the thicket. Crouch up against them, and keep your head down."

"What about–?"

"I will be right behind you. Hurry up!"

Squeaking slightly in fright at the sound of the thick brush behind her rustling madly, the sound of boney bodies trying to force its way through the thick tangle of branches, Ran dropped down, then flattened to her belly to wriggle under the thorny growth. The sharp edges caught in her the fabric of her cloths which gave way to it with little tearing sounds as she continued to force her way through. Using her arms to pull herself and her knee and feet to push, Ran ignored the feel of needle sharp points scratching across her skin, one in particularly dug across her cheek, making her grimace even as the warm, thick, feeling of blood rolled down to drip off her chin.

Mud that had yet to dry from yesterdays rains stuck to her arms, a cool plaster on her skin and cloths, and squelched beneath her stomach. She wanted to be annoyed and disgusted– and, maybe, embarrassed at the way her hips were probably wriggling as she tried to squeeze through –but the situation was far too dire for her to care, and she'd been covered it worse. Finally, managing to wriggle through the small gap, Ran crawled on her hands and knees toward the small gathering of broken rocks at the edge of the rather sudden gulch that reared up before her.

Giving a sound that was half squeak, half yelp, when her hand slid on a damp mess of leaves and muck, Ran's chin smacked against the ground as her balance went out from under her. Scrambling quickly to regain herself, lest she go sliding down the rather steep slope, the girl completed her mad scramble to the rocks, and, huffing faintly for breath, shifted around to lean back against them with her knees tucked up to her chest.

Clutching mud stained fingers to the equally muddied fabric of her pants, Ran shivered in the cool night air as the rough form of the rock pressed into her spine. Watching the small opening beneath the thick plants with worried eyes, she waited, anxiously, for the blond to join her.

The ever questing yips and howls of the strange, canine, creatures continued to grow ever louder. It was a relentless constant that made her jump and tremble despite herself. Every shadow, every rustle, seemed threatening.

Hakuba appeared suddenly, worming his way much faster than she had, through the gap beneath the thorns. Turning on his knees the blond reached back through, and Ran could detect the sound of leaves rustling as he scooped the debris back in front of the opening. A few seconds later he backed up, glancing over his shoulder on occasion, and came to a halt beside her.

He settled back, breathing heavily, and let his eyes fall closed. His face was smeared with little splotches of mud, and a thin trail of blood was making its way down his temple.

"Hakuba-kun?" she asked, worry lacing her voice.

Cinnamon eyes snapped open, and the blond lifted a dirty hand upward, and lay his extended pointer finger before his lips in a soundless bid for silence.

Through the quiet, in which there was only the faint sound of wind in the trees and water gurgling in the divide behind them, there came the sound soft of bony little paws pat-patting over the forest floor. The thick undergrowth rustled all around them, and Ran was oddly reminded of sharks cutting through the water in search of a trace of blood and prey.

Drawing her hands up, Ran clamped them over her mouth to stifle the sounds that wanted to escape. Hakuba's head was turned, almost as if he were tracking the sounds, or could see something she couldn't, and she could only make out part of his face: His expression was a mystery to her.

The sound of a sudden increase in yipping and wailing startled her so badly she had to grab Hakuba's sleeve to steady herself. From the nearby gap the sound of claws scraping on earth could be heard. Her grip tightened, folding the material of the blond's shirt in her hand. It sounded, very much, like the hyenas she'd seen on television documentaries.

The scrabble of claws increased in sound, and seconds later a bony, narrow skull shoved its way through the gap. Immediately Hakuba braced his arms on the rock behind them and kicked out. There was a small cracking sound as the fragile bone of the creatures snout fractured from the force.

An aborted scream squeaked against Ran's fingers as a second head, and part of the creatures torso, shoved its way through the brush. It was obviously caught in the tangle of the branches, thrashing as it tried to tear through. It's jaws snapped at her, teeth clicking together, and, without much thought, she lashed out, the skull splintering beneath the force of her strike. The thing went limp, hanging listlessly in the gap it had made.

The sound of the others trying to force through the tight tangle made her skin crawl, and the way in which their wall of thorny shrubbery shook from their insistence made her shiver. The creature she'd more or less destroyed was shifting again, shaking the remains of its skull, and staring at her from a single, undamaged, eye socket.

Ran was pretty sure she was beyond screaming at this point, and simply settled on making a strangled little nose in her throat. She was sure that there was nothing left, that, soon, they would be swarmed by the undead creatures, and yet, at that moment all of them simply stopped moving. The ones she could see simply turned their heads as if listening to something, and then, as suddenly as it had all begun it was over: They melted back into the shadows and greenery of the forest, leaving her alone with Hakuba.

Beside her the blond let out his breath in an explosive sigh. "I'd ask if you're alright, but I fear that's a foolish question."

Fighting down a fit of hysterical giggles, Ran, attempting to keep her voice even, noted, "You don't seem to be very bothered by this."

"One could say I'm not quite as surprised as you are."

A soft bird cry rang through the sudden silence that had descended, and Ran recognized it as the sound of a hawk. Before she even had time to wonder if it was the same one that had been with them (Perhaps the blond boy had trained it? But, even then, that didn't account for all the oddities of it...) Hakuba slipped across the ground, sending a few clumps of debris sliding along the slope toward the gap, then forced his way back through the barrier of undergrowth.

Ran couldn't see him on the other side, the tangle of undergrowth and tree was too dense and tall, but she could hear the faint rustle as he moved around, and, finally, he called softly back, "They're gone Mouri-san."

Breathing deep, and gathering herself as well as her courage, Ran scrambled over to the line of thorny bushes and forced her way through the gap. On the other side, she set her hands to the ground and pushed herself to her knees, however, before she could get up further a hand appeared in her field of vision. Glancing up at the blank face of her bedraggled companion, Ran gave a small smile and grabbed his hand. Hakuba hauled her to her feet, and the pair of them stood there, listening to the silence, and the breeze through the leaves.

Above them the branches of the close growing trees creaked, a sound that shouldn't have been nearly as spine chilling as it was. Still, slowly, the sound of night insects was beginning to creep back into the surroundings, and, with the return of the normal nighttime atmosphere, Ran felt like she could breathe again.

And, with that, the fact that Shinichi was still in that creature's clutches came rushing back. Whipping around to lock eyes on Hakuba, Ran gave the blond a wide eyed look, "We have to go back!"

The startled look she got in response made her seethe quietly. What had he been _expecting_ her to say? Just, thank you for saving me? And, okay, maybe she _should_ thank him, but...

_Shinichi.._ Her... best friend... was still back there, still in the clutches of a bloodsucking _pervert_.

"That thing has Shinichi, we need to go back and save him from that monster! And Kazuha-chan, and Hattori-kun are still there as well!"

"I really don't think that would be wise, Mouri-san, there's no telling what Kuroba could do to you." Even as he spoke the blond was carefully glancing around their surroundings, and, after a moment, began to walk in a direction Ran was sure, most definitely, did not lead back to the manor house.

"We can't just leave them!" she snarled. "They could be hurt, or worse! Are you so heartless that–"

Hakuba whirled around to face her, his features set into a faint scowl, and his words just as sharp, if not more calmly spoken, than hers, "Mouri-san, _please_, I do not believe that your friends are in immediate danger, and, right now, it's the middle of the night and we are out in the middle of the forest."

"How can you say that?! He's a _vampire_, in case you hadn't noticed!"

"I had noticed, Mouri-san. What I don't know is what you expect to do against him. Your friends are going to have to get themselves out."

In a sudden fit of temper that had been welling up for the last couple of minutes Ran lashed out, her fist thudding into the wide trunk of a tree right beside the shocked blond. She paid no heed to the throbbing in her hand, nor the pain of tiny splinters from broken wood, nor to the wide eyed stare that Hakuba was giving her. She didn't even see it, her head down and her bangs shadowing her face.

"I can't just leave them behind!" she said, voice cracking slightly as her frustration manifested in a stinging in her eyes that always heralded tears. Then, whirling away from him she stormed blindly into the forest, and yelled back, "If you won't help me, then I'll just go back myse–!" Ran's final words trailed off in a scream as she slipped, the ground going out from beneath her feet, and she went sliding and tumbling down a slope.

Rocks and roots dug into her, and she could feel a sharp pain in her lower leg when she finally came to a halt, laying at the bottom of a ditch. The thick roots of the trees above broke through the dirt walls around her, dangling the thinner roots like spider webs. Using her hand to lever herself up, Ran winced as pain shot up her wrist and wished she hadn't been silly enough to punch that tree.

"Mouri-san?" Hakuba's voice called, sounding worried and harried. "Mouri-san, are you alright?"

"I think so!" she yelled back.

"Is there a way for you to get back up?"

Glancing around Ran began to push herself back to her feet only to yelp when her leg went out from under her. Belatedly, the pain flared up again leaving her swearing in a way that would making her mother blame her father, at length, and in great detail. Her good hand reached out, automatically, to clutch at her leg.

She hoped dearly she'd merely sprained it.

"Mouri-san?!"

"Sorry! I think I hurt my leg, hold on!"

Something that sounded faintly like swear words filtered down to her, and Ran smiled in slight amusement. Crawling over to the root covered wall she reached up and grabbed hold of a handful of roots in either hand. It took a bit of maneuvering to pull herself up since she wanted to put as little weight on her sore leg as possible. Once she was up though, she balanced on one leg and looked up. She could just make out Hakuba's blond head peering down at her, but that wasn't what caught her attention.

Staring wide eyed and pale, she couldn't stifle the sudden scream that jumped from her throat as Ran met with the cold, black, stare of a human skull. The skeleton had been behind her before, but now she could see it clearly: Sitting, propped against the muddy side of the ditch. Whatever cloths it had worn in life were barely patches of fabric clinging to the bones, the soft tissue long gone.

"Mouri-san!"

Ran barely noticed that she had sagged back, and slid to sit against the wall, one dirty hand clamped over her mouth, below wide and staring eyes. A slight, shocked, whimper escaped her mouth. The feel of her heart thumping, fast and hard, in her chest began to slow as it became apparent that _this_ skeleton, at least, wasn't going to attack her.

Hakuba called for her again, sounding more worried by the moment. Choking, for a moment, on her own voice, Ran finally managed to croak out, "I... There's a body down here! A skeleton!"

Silence greeted her pronouncement for a minute, then, Hakuba asked quietly, his voice barely reaching her, "You're sure?"

"Yes!" she hissed, her pain, fear, and general unhappiness with this entire situation make her temper flare again. "I've seen dead bodies before!"

A person just had to get used to that sort of thing when they were surrounded by detectives.

"Hold on, I'm going to see if I can find a way down. Wait there."

Looking back up, Ran watched Hakuba ease back from the verge, then, a moment later, the long, sharp, whistle sounded again and she saw the pale ghost-like form of the hawk sweep by over head, apparently helping its master in his search. A sudden, almost deafening silence descended in their wake leaving Ran completely alone.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she gripped her upper arms tight and stared warily at the skeleton sitting across from her. She was half terrified the thing would sudden pull itself free of the earth that covered parts of it and try to kill her.

"I want to go home," she whispered. "I want my dad, and my mom." This just wasn't something she'd ever expected to come up against. She'd been scared of the supernatural for as long as she could remember, but she'd never _really_ expected to stumble across something. Shinichi had always talked to her about logic, and how none of it was real. "Where's that logic _now, _Shinichi?"

She couldn't help but hate the faint bitterness that laced her voice, though she didn't bother denying it or the feeling of betrayal settled deep in her heart. Ran wondered if she even had a right to _feel_ betrayed. Shinichi wasn't her boyfriend, he was perfectly allowed to do what he wanted, and yet...

A sudden sound from somewhere in the darkness made her jump, her breath catching in her throat. A faint glow appeared, directed downward, and in the ambient lighting she could make out a human figure.

"Hakuba-kun?" she called, voice tentative.

"Where is it?" The semi-familiar voice returned as the blond walked closer. He'd gotten out a small flashlight, and held it, angled toward the ground to keep from blinding either of them. Ran lifted one hand and waved toward the Skeleton to indicate it. Hakuba flicked the beam of his flashlight toward it.

The blond strode over and squatted down near it, the light from his flashlight playing over the dirty white of the bones and scummy bits of fabric that remained. "Its... Its not going to get up or something is it?" Ran asked, half hysterical.

"Unlikely," Hakuba murmured, leaning forward until he was nearly nose to nose with the thing's skull. Glancing down he angled the light that way as well, scrutinizing the half buried pelvis for several seconds before murmuring, "Appears to be male." Reaching forward he gently pulled the skull free from the dirt that had, over time, slid down and molded around it. Inspecting something, Ran had no idea what, he finally said, "Older adult, at that."

There was something tense and expectant about the way Hakuba held himself just then, and, with a gasp, Ran recalled his story about his father who had disappeared.

"You can see how he died as well," Hakuba continued, voice sounding distant and detached. "Small entry wound above the left orbital cavity." He didn't appear to want to pull the head farther forward right then, and instead released it. The beam of his flashlight wandered over the ground, taking in the still rather intact remains of a pair of well polished shoes.

"D-did Kuroba-san....?" she whispered tentatively, her mind immediately recalling the image of dangerous eyes in a pale face that was covered in _blood _as it dribbled down the vampires chin from the corners of his mouth, like a child with a particularly tasty meal.

Hakuba sent her a particularly dry look that immediately put Ran's hackles up, before he sardonically commented to the air, "Why would a vampire need a _gun_?"

About to give him a deserved piece of her mind, she was stopped when the light of Hakuba's flashlight flickered over something that glimmered faintly. "Hey, what's that?"

"What?"

"There's something there," Ran said, waving her hand to indicate, then shifting carefully onto her knees to crawl forward, wincing faintly in the stinging pain from her hand and the continued, achy, throb of her ankle. The light glimmered over the tiny point again, and Ran snapped her hand out, clawing through the dirt until it came away, sliding along with some other loose dirt.

A pocket watch, an old, antique, model at that, with the glass on the front cracked, and encrusted with so much dirt it seemed to be stained brown. The hands no longer moved, frozen eternally at twelve forty-five. The rest of the metal was dull, glinting faintly in the weak beam of the flashlight, and heavily smudged.

Hakuba shifted over, his shoulder brushing lightly against her back as he leaned over her and he made a soft sound that Ran couldn't quite interpret. His breath was warm, and stirred the hair near her ear making her shiver faintly. "My father's watch..."

Leaning forward a bit more the blond reached around her, a handkerchief had appeared in his hand at some point, and carefully picked the watch up. Ran followed his hand as Hakuba sat back, and drew the watch close to his face. His thumb, covered in the cloth the handkerchief, swiped over the cracked and dirty glass a few times. There was an infinite look on his face that made Ran's insides feel hollow in cold. She couldn't imagine what it must feel like to...

"Are you sure that's your...?" She trailed off, unable to vocalize it.

Hakuba swallowed, lips in a thin line. "I can't be sure without dental records or...or something, but.." Whatever he said, Ran could very well see that Hakuba was already convinced, whether it was the watch or something else he had seen.

"Was it very important?" she whispered, reaching out to lightly touch the wrist of his hand that held the handkerchief and watch.

"He bought it at a little pawn shop in England when he first met my mother," he said softly. "I'd loved it ever since I was a little boy, and always took it so I could sit and hold it to my ear, and listen to it tick." There was a wistful smile on his face as he carefully folded the corners of his handkerchief over the dirty, broken thing and then gently tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket. "He got me one of my own eventually."

The blond seemed to shake himself and turned to her, his face as closed off and as blank as before. He stood then, shedding everything that cloaked him before, and frowned down at her. "I hurt my left ankle," Ran offered helpfully.

Nodding once he stepped around to that side and crouched down beside her again before tentatively sliding his arm around her waist. Ran, deciding now was no time to be shy, tossed her arm around his neck, and let him help her to her feet. With Hakuba supporting her weight she was able to keep almost all of her weight off her sore ankle, and, after a moment to be sure of their balance, the blond began to lead the way back toward where he'd come from.

Ran had no idea how long she half limped, half hopped along with Hakuba's aid, her focus entirely on ignoring the pain and fatigue starting to well up in her. A little thing like time seemed to stop being important, and, before she knew it, Hakuba had stopped moving forward and was eying the side of the ditch. Ran looked too. Here, it seemed, the bank was significantly lower and they could, theoretically, haul themselves out easily.

A rustle above drew her attention, and Ran smiled faintly at the hawk perched in the branches, watching them restlessly. She was nearly startled out of her skin when Hakuba tossed his flashlight onto the grass.

"Grab hold," Hakuba ordered, and Ran complied, taking hold of the side of the ditch without really thinking about it, and felt the blond's arm tighten around her waist for a moment.

Crouching down Hakuba's other arm slid behind her legs, and, with a startled squeak, Ran found herself lifted upward. She was able to pull herself onto the grassy verge with a bit of effort, trying not to kick the blond, or jostle her leg needlessly.

Squirming into a sitting position Ran looked back in time to see Hakuba brace his hands against the night damp grass and haul himself neatly up beside her. Twisting around to sit down, Hakuba draped one arm over a bent knee, his other foot still dangling down into the shadowy gap.

He seemed pensive, lost off in a world of thought and his own making, leaving Ran to fidget nervously with the cuffs of her shirt. Finally, just to distract herself, she reached over and picked up the flashlight and turned it off with a faint click. Turning it over and over in her hands she flicked her gaze back up to her silent companion.

"Hakuba-kun?"

He blinked, seemed to be startled by the soft question, and turned to regard her with an intense stare. She hadn't noticed before how much like his hawk his stare seemed, it made her want to laugh for some reason. Ran wasn't sure if that was fatigue or hysteria speaking, and decided not to think about it. "Yes, Mouri-san?"

"What are we going to do now?" More importantly, what was _she_ going to do now? Shinichi, Kazuha-chan, Hattori-kun... She couldn't exactly charge in and save them now could she? She would just have to hope that Hakuba was right.

"Do you think you can walk a little further?"

While part of her, the temperamental and prideful part that reminded her of her pigheaded father wanted to say, in no uncertain terms, that she _could_ (And maybe the part that was like her cold, pigheaded, powerful, mother wanted to inform him that she wasn't a weak girl, she was a karate champion, thank you very much), Ran took a moment to take stock of herself.

Her ankle was a warm, throbbing, ache and her hand was a much more fiery one that flared every time she flexed her fingers. Ran dearly hoped she hadn't broken her hand again. She'd done that once and it hadn't been the most pleasant experience of her life! Then there was, of course, the fact that she was getting tired, but if there was anything Ran had learned through years of Karate it was her limits, and how far past them she could push herself without overreaching. It was a fine balance, but one that was familiar.

Unlike undead canines and vampires...

Finally, she decided, "On my own? Maybe not, but if you help me I think I can go a bit farther."

A slight smile lit his face, and he gave an amused chuckle. "Why," Hakuba asked drily. "do I get the feeling that, even if I weren't here to help you, you would still try to keep moving?"

"Because I would," Ran returned. "I don't give up easily."

Hakuba's snort of amusement was almost as good as a full blown laugh at this point, and he shook his sweaty and dirty fringe out of his face to give her a calculating look. "I don't know whether you're insane, or simply one of the most stubborn girls I've ever met."

As he helped her to her feet, much like before, Ran contemplated the the options, and, once fully standing– Hakuba once more hunched over slightly to accommodate for his height –she said, "Of the two I think I'd rather be stubborn."

Slanting her a slight smile he looked upward, strands of dirty blond hair falling across his eyes as he searched the branches, eyes alighting on the hawk which ruffled it's feathers in response to his regard. A second later the bird was off its perch and soaring with an eerie ease among the thick boles of the trees.

Hakuba took a step then paused in remembrance, "My flashlight..."

"I got it," Ran told him wryly, and waved the object in question which she still held in her other hand. "Should I turn it on?"

"Leave it off. I don't want to chance attracting anything if we can avoid it."

She didn't dare ask what he felt was out there, though she did wonder at his apparent familiarity with the place, that she did want to ask about. Now, though, was not the time for it. Instead she concentrated on hobbling along with his aid, and ignoring the pain spiking from her various aches once more.

The shadows of the forest passed by, heavy around them, and the occasional call of some creature interrupted the more uniform sound of wind rustling in the branches. It unnerved her, made her skin crawl, in a way she rarely felt, but was feeling all too much tonight. Hakuba didn't seem to be moved by the atmosphere in the least, and, instead, seemed to become a part of it. It was another one of those distinctly odd things she'd noticed about the strange blond in the last... How long had it been, now, since she'd stumbled across Shinichi in the arms of that... that creature?

Ran was brought out of her muddled daze when the trees thinned abruptly revealing a sort of sparse area where the spaces between them were greater and the amount of tangled undergrowth less. There, in one of the larger gaps, stood a simple tent, the canvas aged but well taken care of. It was easy to see, even at a glance, that the small area bore all the hallmarks of a well used campsite.

She stood still, blinking in confusion at the sight of it. It was _definitely_ the last thing she'd been expecting to see out here in the middle of a forest that, essentially, boiled down tom and encompassed, the meaning of 'nowhere' perfectly.

A slight nudged from Hakuba reminded her that she wasn't alone, and the blond helped her over to a fallen log near the tent in the, obviously, well tended little glade. Once she was settled, Hakuba was off and scrambling up a nearby tree like some sort of nimble monkey. For several moments the only sound was bark coming loose, and the disturbed shaking of the branches.

When he came back down, he dropped from one of the lower branches in a shower of bark, small twigs, and a few leaves, and brought with him a rather battered looking olive green duffel bag. Ran guessed the color was chosen to blend in with the greenery of the trees.

Hakuba dropped it nearby with a clatter as whatever was inside shifted, and kneeled beside it. The zippers rasped open while Ran watched, and the blond pulled out a tin case which was soon revealed to be a one of the first aide variety. Prying it open he pulled out a a bottle of water, a container of antiseptic cream, and a few other things.

"Your hand, Mouri-san?" Hakuba looked up at her, holding his own hand out to her expectantly even as he relaxed into a cross legged position on the ground. It was so incongruous with his rather formal attire, and the way he'd been acting back at the manor house that Ran couldn't stop the snicker the escaped. He blinked at her, and after muttering an apology she held her injured hand out to him. He took hold of her hand carefully, inspecting her split knuckles in the darkness and the faint light of the moon that filtered through. "Could you hold the flashlight on your hand?"

"Ah, right."

Juggling it around in her hand Ran clicked the flashlight on and centered the beam on her hand. She winced slightly at the sight of dark splinters in her skin, and the split flesh of her knuckles. The callouses she'd built up could only do so much after all.

Letting the other items fall into his lap, Hakuba reached into the first aid kit again and produced a small sterule packet with thin metal tweasers in it. Pulling the plastic open he tossed it back carelessly, and set about getting the worst splinters out of her hand.

"Prepared for everything, aren't you?"

Hakuba glanced up at her through his fringe, the sweat starting to dry on it made the hair stick up oddly. It made him look even more rumpled than before, and she barely managed to keep from laughing at him again. "When you're out here alone, it's best to be prepared."

"Out here... alone? Hakuba-kun this place...?"

Hakuba shot her a sidelong look and said, "I've been coming out here as often as I can over the past few years to search for my father."

Ran went quiet, watching him thoughtfully as he set aside the tweasers, and the square of gauze that was now covered in the small, dark, shapes of blood covered splinters. Opening the bottle of water he held her hand to one side and poured the lukewarm water over her her knuckles, the fingers of his other cleaning away dirt, blood, and other debris. Once that was done he dried her hand, then set about applying the antiseptic cream. After that it was only a matter of wrapping her hand securely.

Lifting her hand she eyed his handiwork with appreciation.

"Mouri-san, your ankle?"

Blinking in surprise she felt her ankle throb as if to remind her of it. Reaching down she fumbled with the laces of her shoe and began to pull it off only to wince. Her foot and ankle had swollen up at some point, she noted drearily. Hands, larger than hers, reached passed her and, with gentle care, helped ease her shoe from her swollen foot.

Setting it aside, Ran peeled her sock off, nose wrinkled at it. Hakuba's hands were back, making her blush faintly as he carefully inspected her foot, rotating her ankle a bit and making her bite back a gasp of pain. Without so much as a word he pulled out another roll of bandages and settled her foot on his thigh before beginning to wrap it.

"It's not broken is it?" She didn't think it was but...

"I don't think so, but I am not a specialist."

A sudden rustle nearby had Ran startling like a gunshot had gone off, head flying up and whipping in the direction it had come from, then upward toward the branches of a nearby tree. She hoped, uselessly, that it was just Hakuba's hawk. Paling at the sight of a a familiar figure she whispered, "K-kuroba..."

Hakuba hadn't moved an inch, hadn't even tensed, and, even now, continued to work on securing her bandages. Though, after a moment, he did say, "It took you long enough to call off your horrible little pets, Kuroba."

Surprised by the annoyed familiarity in the blond's tone, Ran glanced at him then slowly lifted her gaze back to the vampire who was lounging lazily on a thick tree branch.

He looked far more ruffled than the pristine appearance he'd shown in the other times she'd seen him. His white suit coat hung open, its lapels were spattered and stained with a dark substance she didn't want to think about. The navy shirt he wore beneath was untucked from his pants and twisted slightly, and his hair was far more ruffled than ever. There were dark stains around his lips too, stark against the paleness of his face though, now, a slight flush lit his cheeks. It made him look healthy.

Ran swallowed, remembering, sharply, the last time she'd seen him and what he had been doing to her best friend.

Hakuba released her at last, stood, and turned to face the night walking creature. "Well?" he asked sharply. "What took you so long to call them off?"

A slow, lazy, predator's smile spread across Kuroba's face showing his fangs in a way that twisted Ran's stomach into a knot of nerves. Just as slow as the smile he lifted his hand, ungloved, and licked over his palm before swallowing his middle finger into his mouth. He made the entire gesture look so obscene, and the way he was currently dressed didn't help at all...

Ran didn't dare look too closely at the fabric of his undershirt for fear of what she might find. Hakuba, at least, seemed completely unmoved.

Kuroba pulled his finger free, looking entirely too satisfied with himself, and purred, "I was... distracted."

"I expect you were," Hakuba said dryly. Ran was trying, very hard, to figure out what was going on. The pair of them were conversing as if they were... not quite old friends, but, maybe, old acquaintances? It was so very surreal that Ran didn't quite know what to think of it. "Did you know my father is dead?"

The vampire was absently inspecting his hand, and licking his bloodstained lips like a cat who'd had a particularly tasty treat. He didn't even bother to look at Hakuba when he answered, "I did."

The blond's shoulders stiffened, and Ran, at once, felt sorry for him. She wanted to yell at the vampire again, but visions of Shinichi flushed, and lax in his grip assailed her, choked her. She felt a sudden coldness rush over her, chill her, and make nausea swim in her stomach while bile inched up the back of her throat. Hunching her shoulders she wrapped her arms around her stomach, and breathed slowly through the sick feeling.

"And you didn't tell me?" Hakuba snapped, accusation and anger thickening his voice.

"You never asked," Kuroba retorted blandly, finally lifting his glowing gaze to look at Hakuba. His eyes reflected green in the shadows. The vampire tilted his head like a curious child, or maybe like someone who was looking at a temperamental child throwing a silly tantrum.

He made her feel like a bug.

"I asked if you'd seen my father!"

Kuroba's response to that was just as flippant as his responses before, "Well, I hadn't seen him in the forest. Alive at least."

"But..." Hakuba's shoulders were sagging, and Ran wondered if she should try to offer him some comfort. Clearly the vampire just _didn't care_. Though she wondered why she thought maybe he would. Hadn't he lost family? ...What if _he_ had killed them?

The thought was too sickening to contemplate. She'd seen murderers time and again, and it never ceased to sicken her.

"You never asked if he was dead."

"You still could have told me!"

The words flowed around her, passing her by as she sat, half dazed, on the log. She just didn't know what to make of this anymore, but then, Kuroba's half petulant reply penetrated the fog of her mind, "And then you would have stopped coming."

And, just like that, she didn't fear or hate the vampire anymore.

She pitied him.

Lifting her head Ran stared up at the ruffled, white dressed figure. His face had gone forcefully blank, a blankness that didn't quite hide the unnatural anger seething beneath his skin. Whatever good mood the vampire had been after the _things_ he had done to Shinichi had evaporated, leaving only an unnerving creature behind.

A lonely, sad, angry creature.

"Kuroba..."

The vampire turned away, tipping his nose in the air like a spoiled child who had just had a favorite toy taken from him, "Justice was visited on his killer, he lays spread by beast and wind. You can leave now, and take the girl with you." Hakuba's shoulders slumped, and he seemed to be trying to decide what to say to that, but Kuroba wasn't finished speaking yet. "As you know, now you can't return again."

Hakuba lifted his head, then, obviously to say something, but, just like he'd come, Kuroba was already gone. Confused, Ran studied the blond's back, "Hakuba-kun... What does that mean?"

The blond's hand lifted, and Ran suspected he was running his hand over his face. "Exactly what he said, Mouri-san. There's something about visiting the manor that, once you've visited you'll never find it again..."

Hakuba straightened, hand still hovering near his face, then the long, piercing, whistle came again. In a rush of wings the hawk came down toward them and Hakuba lifted his arm for it to land on. Ran's hands immediately jumped to her mouth, a gasp bursting from her lungs.

Wasn't he supposed to have some sort of gear to handle it? She was _sure_ his arm was going to get torn open, but...

It just _didn't_.

While the hawk landed as heavily as a person might expect, its claws didn't pierce his cloths, or his arm. Hakuba reached up, stroking his other hand over the bird's breast feathers affectionately. "Thank you, my friend."

Ran sat, watching in shocked awe as golden streamers of translucent light seemed to spill from the bird's feathers and body, sliding downward where they wrapped around Hakuba's arm. The hawk itself was glowing and began to fade until, in a final burst of light it simply _vanished_.

"Wh–What was that?!" she gasped, incredulously.

The blond blinked at her, looking a bit lethargic and shrugged, "Spirit familiar." Hakuba came toward her and tugged his sleeve upward slightly so that Ran could see part of a tattoo on his forearm in the peripheral glow of the flashlight she'd forgotten she was holding. The style was far different than the traditional Japanese styles, or the American ones. It was loopy and like knots conjoined to create rope that, she supposed, created the image. "I have another on my other arm that allows me to summon a horse."

Frowning up at him she asked, "Why didn't you use that then? Against the dog things, I mean. It's bigger after all..."

Hakuba blinked at her, then laughed outright. About to tell him off for laughing at her, Ran quieted as he replied, "You don't send a prey animal to fight a pack of predators, particularly when they don't have room to run."

"Oh."

Well, that made sense.

"Let's see if we can find a way to keep your ankle elevated, Mouri-san," Hakuba said, not unkindly. "Once it's daylight we'll get back to the road and go from there."

Too tired to argue at this point, Ran merely nodded in agreement. She hoped the others were fairing as well as she was...


	6. Departure

**Departure**

* * *

_Everything was hazy, and Shinichi felt like he was floating on the edge of exhaustion. His body felt too heavy, and sluggish. He couldn't even tell if his eyes were open or not. What he wanted, more than anything, was to slip back into the blissful black depths and just __**sleep**__._

"_Shinichi," a dark voice murmured, and Shinichi immediately turned toward the sound. "Stay awake a little longer."_

_Forcing his eyes open he stared up at the blurry world. A hazy figure was leaning over him, all white and dark navy, and details he couldn't make out. Shinichi mumbled something that he thought might have been Kuroba's name, but it was so slurred that even he couldn't tell what he had said. _

_A blurry white hand came into his field of view and palmed his cheek. The way Kuroba's thumb slid back and forth over the skin of Shinichi's cheek was oddly tender, and only made everything feel far more surreal than it already did. "Shhh," Kuroba shushed._

_The hazy figure leaned down, his lips molding gently against Shinichi's in a slow kiss that tasted like blood, and made Shinichi sigh as he relaxed back into the mattress beneath him. Kuroba's hand slid up as he pulled away, and brushed his fringe back._

"_C-cold..." Shinichi whispered._

_He hadn't realized how cold he felt until now. That sluggish feeling was dragging at him even more, black eating at the edges of his vision. _

"_Shhh," Kuroba murmured again, stroking his hair back in absent sweeps. "I'll make it better in a moment."_

_He tried to roll over and curl against Kuroba's side, a heavy presence on the bed next to him, but his body refused to move, was apparently too weak to so much as twitch, and Kuroba's other hand was splayed on his chest. It wasn't even a weight, just resting there but was more than enough to keep him still._

"_Young master, I've brought you the last of it. I'm afraid there isn't much." Shinichi gave a small curious sound at the vaguely familiar voice. His mind was swimming too much to place it._

_Kuroba turned away from him, his hand lifting from Shinichi's chest but Shinichi was beyond caring then. Soothing blackness was creeping over his vision and drowning the world. The sound of their voices was starting to gain a sort of muffled quality as if he were slipping to sleep, or listening at a distance._

"_It's enough for what needs to be done." A glass full of clear liquid that seemed to catch every bit of faint light and glitter moved through his swimming vision before Shinichi felt the cool, smooth, lip of the glass against his lips. As if from a distance heard Kuroba's voice coax softly, "Drink. Just a mouthful."_

_Eyelids fluttering fitfully, Shinichi could just make out Kuroba hovering above him as the liquid poured into his slack mouth, as it slid down his throat, it felt like swallowing oil._

_Shinichi closed his eyes, and finally gave in to the heaviness dragging insistently at his limbs._

* * *

"Why were you even _out there_?"

"I happened to see Kudou-kun as he left! So Ran and I followed him to see where he was going, and we stumbled across... T-that...what I told you about! Anyway, are you sure we should wake him up?"

"I want to know from Kudou's own mouth if what yer tellin' me is true, ahou. I don't care what some creepy maid says about him still sleepin'! I've never heard of Kudou sleepin' this late anyway."

"WHAT?! You don't believe me, Heiji? You complete _AHOU_."

"Stop screamin' ahou!"

Shinichi groaned as his door was slammed open, the heavy sound of storming footsteps seemed to be in his head rather than on the floor itself. His head was throbbing, his stomach twisting angrily, and he felt that if he moved he was going to throw up.

"Yer screamin' too!" Toyama snarled as she stomped in right behind Hattori. "So don't you tell me to stop. I can't believe you don't believe me!"

"It's kinda hard to believe you when yer tellin' me all kinds of wild tales!" Hattori bellowed.

Slowly peeling his eyes open Shinichi noted that they felt awfully gritty and dry. He felt completely awful to be honest, and his entire body ached. Shinichi really, _really_ wished the pair from Osaka would _shut up_. The moment he tried to open his mouth and tell them that, though, he realized what a bad idea that was. Bolting up faster than he'd expected to be able, Shinichi rolled to the side and wretched over the side of the bed.

Not much came out, just a bit of saliva and stomach acid, before he was left dry heaving. Still, the way his stomach was convulsing was enough to make his eyes leak a bit, and set his nose to running. At least it had made Hattori and Toyama stop arguing though.

"Shit, Kudou," He heard Hattori murmur at the same time Toyama gasped, "Kudou-kun!"

Groaning quietly, Shinichi brought his hand up and dashed the back of it over his lips, grimacing at the feel of snot and saliva on his skin. A hand touched his shoulder and Toyama's voice, laced with concern, asked, "A-are you okay, Kudou-kun?"

Her touch was light, barely there, as if she were going to jerk away at any moment. Shinichi didn't bother to think about it, refused to think about it. Last night... It couldn't be real, could it? He... he was in his bed, though. It was a dream... right? Groaning again, and breathing through his mouth as his stomach threatened to heave again, he swallowed hard, refusing to answer.

Footsteps thumped across the floor, and a moment later he heard Toyama yelp, "Heiji! Don't!"

With a slight clatter and a rustle, Heiji jerked the drapes aside and let a brilliant spill of golden tinted sunlight enter the room. In a detached manner, Shinichi's mind noted that the thick coloration of the light meant it was _late afternoon_. He'd lost an entire day.

"What's yer problem?!" He heard Hattori snarl as he whirled away from the balcony doors toward Toyama who'd taken several quick steps toward him.

Shinichi, now that his stomach no longer felt like it was trying to crawl out of his throat, sagged back onto the bed, his gaze riveted on the canopy. His skin felt tight and hot, feverish, but it was starting to fade as if he were rapidly getting over some sickness.

"For all we know you coulda killed him, you ahou!" Toyama raged.

"And how d'you figure that?" Heiji growled. "I wasn't anywhere near him!"

"He coulda been a vampire! What then?"

While Hattori sputtered at Toyama's claims, Shinichi went cold all over as the implications of that single grouping of words sank in with unshakeable tenacity. Images from the night before assailed him in a dizzying whirl that just about made his stomach rebel again. Slowly, Shinichi turned his head to stare at Toyama.

The sleeveless blouse she wore bared her upper arm, showing the stark bandages wrapped there and her shorts displayed a number of scrapes and bruises on her legs.

It hit him then, as he stared numbly at Toyama that _Ran_... Oh god.

"Ran," he half whispered, half croaked, voice rasping harshly in his throat. It felt like sandpaper just to speak. He didn't think they heard him though.

"Don't tell me yer still on about that!" Whirling away from Toyama, Hattori stomped over to the side of the bed where Shinichi was busy trying to extricate himself. "Kudou!" he barked, "Tell this ahou that there aren't any vampires!"

Finally kicking his blankets aside Shinichi sat up, only half noting that he was still dressed in the rumpled cloths he'd worn yesterday, his shirt still open and unbuttoned and dried blood caking his chest and neck. Through his sudden dizzy spell, Shinichi thought he heard Hattori swear and ask him what had happened.

Shoving Hattori's hands aside, Shinichi staggered to his feet and took a swaying step toward Toyama. Hattori's hand caught him under the elbow and kept from from crumpling.

"Where's Ran?" Shinichi demanded, voice much stronger and more clear.

Toyama seemed to flare up at his words, anger coloring her cheeks a temperamental shade of red. She stepped forward hand coming up, and a finger prodded him in his chest with surprising strength. "You! I can't believe you would dare to ask that after what you did! Do you have any idea what you did to her? Huh?" She didn't even pause, and Shinichi wouldn't have answered even if she had. He just stared at her as she continued her tirade, Hattori's grip on his bicep tightening. "She saw everything! _I_ saw everything, and then we were attacked by those _things_. You don't even care at all do you? Well?!"

Shinichi stared at her, trying to make sense of her accusation and anger through the dull throbbing in his head. "What goes on between Ran and I has never been, and never will be, any of your business Toyama," he snapped at last, feeling both guilty and pleased when the girl reared back as if she'd been slapped. He'd been wanting to say that to someone, anyone, for so long. He was damned tired of everyone insisting that his 'relationship' with Ran was their business. It just _wasn't_.

"Kudou! You are a complete and utter bastard, you know that don't you?!" Her hand came up again, and for a moment he was sure she was going to hit him, and she seemed sure of it as well until she clenched her hand into a fist and let it drop back to her side. "I hope you know you broke her heart with the way you were lettin' that... that _creep_ put his hands all over you!"

Curling his lip into a sneer, Shinichi shot back, "Did you enjoy the show?"

The girl jerked back a step this time, and Shinichi couldn't help but wonder at his own defensiveness. He'd never been like this, and couldn't really understand what was wrong with him now, but... Everything she was saying was putting him on edge.

Hattori tugged on his arm, spinning Shinichi around to face him. The yellow tinted sunlight made Hattori's tan skin look bronzed, though the faint yellow overtone made Shinichi flashback to when he'd first laid eyes on Kuroba, and he blanched slightly. If he'd known what he did now would he have turn and run?

His stomach clenched at how uncertain and indecisive he felt. Surely the answer was obvious? Meeting Hattori's green eyed glare impassively, Shinichi barely heard the growled words his friend spoke, "I don't know what yer problem is Kudou, but don't you talk to Kazuha like that."

Shinichi obstinately turned his head, staring blankly at a nearby wall. Hattori's grip tightened on his upper arms, and Shinichi imagined it was taking everything the other detective had not to shake him.

"Heiji, just... stop."

"Kudou!"

Slanting a look at Hattori from the corner of his eyes Shinichi asked, "What do you want Hattori?"

Hattori was gaping at him like he'd never seen anything so strange. Shinichi just wished he would get his hands off of him. "What the hell is wrong with you Kudou?! 'Neechan and that other guy are missin' and Kazuha's tellin' me our host is a psychopathic vampire with a taste for _you,_ in particular."

He could feel a hysterical laugh bubbling up, and Shinichi couldn't stop it. In moments he was laughing so hard it hurt, and he could see them: See the way the two stared at him like he was insane, and maybe he was. He couldn't tell anymore, and maybe he just didn't care. He laughed, gasping out between fits, "I told you, didn't I? Told you that you didn't have to worry about his supposed interest in your little not-girlfriend."

His friend released him like he was touching a red hot metal and stepped back, staring at him with wide eyes, "Kudou... I think you've finally cracked."

The announcement only made Shinichi laugh harder, and he sunk down on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He laughed until he didn't know if he was laughing or sobbing, and never saw the nervous glances the pair exchanged over his head. Reaching unconsciously for the bite marks he knew should be on his body, he found only the irregular texture of small, barely noticeable, scars.

"Ran and Hakuba are gone?" he heard himself ask, and was shocked at how calm and detached his voice sounded. It took every bit of control he had not to add 'But he _promised_!' like some child who'd had the promise to go to the park broken. Everything just felt so completely surreal, and he... He felt bereft and confused.

He needed to find Kuroba. Needed to demand, once and for all, what the hell was going on. Needed to... Shinichi swallowed hard, refusing to follow that train of thoughts, because they made his belly clench in anticipation.

"Hakuba-kun saved her," Toyama whispered. Shinichi looked up, finding the girl hovering behind a rather pale looking Heiji. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach, her head angled down. She refused to look at him, her eyes darting around frantically and never focusing anywhere near him. "I bet your little vampire friend killed them."

Biting back the arguments, that Kuroba had _promised_ he wouldn't, Shinichi stood abruptly and made his way toward the door. Without looking back, without really thinking about it, he simply said, "I'm going to go search."

Except, he wasn't going to go look for Ran and Hakuba, he was going to find Kuroba, and he had an idea of the best place to start.

As the door closed behind him he heard Toyama's faint, "He saved Ran...which is more than you did."

The accusations didn't hurt as much as Shinichi thought they probably should, and yet tore at him so much more than he expected in totally different ways. Toyama could be angry all she wanted, but maybe it was just him... Wasn't he just as much of a victim in this twisted scenario as anyone else? He supposed he made an effective target though.

At least, he thought grimly as he stalked down the hall, he knew exactly where to begin looking for the vampire. Shinichi had no idea what he was going to do when he found him, but... Well, he'd figure it out as he went along. He just _had_ to find Kuroba.

His steps carried him into the main hall, and, without really giving it a thought, he strode across the balcony toward the entrance to the west wing's third floor. Shinichi wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the hall wasn't it. It was... Well, rather ordinary and looked every much like the one in the east wing.

Slowing his pace down as he reached the first door, Shinichi reached out and turned the handle. Pushing the door open he peered inside. In the hazy gloom of the room he couldn't make out anything much at all. Some odds and ends of furniture, hidden beneath dust covers and sheets, perhaps, but that was it.

Turning away he continued on, checking each door as he came to it. Each room revealed more of the same, until now. Shinichi stared silently at the room, eyes taking in the bed tucked against one wall. Bookshelves stood against another, and a desk sat at one side. Old things, like favorite childhood toys and knickknacks, stood here and there, and everything was covered in a fine layer of dust.

Forcing himself to let go of the doorknob, Shinichi stepped into the room. The thick layer of dust on the carpet muffled his footsteps. Walking over to the desk he looked down at it, at the pencil sitting there a top a piece of paper. Reaching down he pinched a corner and pulled it up, dust and grime slid off revealing a dirty, yellowed, sheet beneath. The pencil rolled to a stop on the surface of the desk.

Spots on the paper looked water stained.

Eying the sheet, a few shakily penned kanji caught his attention.

"Aoko, I'm sorry I couldn't stop her and," he read softly, the words cut off after that, too faded to be seen. Further down more said, "Too sick to do much."

Feeling an odd sort of trepidation, Shinichi put the paper back down, and turned away. This whole thing had a dream like quality to it, and Shinichi half wondered if, in a few moments, he would wake up and find he was still in the car with the other three traveling toward the next case.

Whatever the case may be, he needed to see this through to the end.

A faint glimmer in the thick shadows caught his attention, and Shinichi stepped quietly over, his arms unconsciously wrapping around himself. For some reason he felt oddly exposed, or maybe the right word was oddly _helpless_. Stepping hesitantly closer to the shelf he squinted at the items. Rectangular in shape, with a glass front..._picture_ frames. The glass was just as heavily frosted in grime as everything else, and, with tentative hands, Shinichi reached out and picked one of them up.

Pulling up the hem of his shirt, Shinichi used it to wipe away the thick layer of dust. Slowly, from beneath the sheet of grime an image was revealed to him of a girl and a boy. The boy was easy enough to recognize with his messy hair and gleaming eyes, but the wide happy grin was nothing like the predatory smirk Shinichi was so used to seeing.

Strangely, he ached at the sight, because there was something so horrifically saddening about seeing this glimpse of the past. Even through the faded colors of the already old styled photograph, he could tell that the girl was the same one from the painting in the music room.

Feeling suddenly like an intruder, possibly because he _was_ one, Shinichi set the picture back down and pulled back quickly. He hadn't made sure it was balanced correctly, and, even as he turned away, heard the sharp snap of it fall onto the wood of the shelf.

Shinichi didn't dare look back, and merely hurried out the door, closing it behind himself, and attempting to get his breathing under control. He had a feeling that he was beginning to garner an understanding of Kuroba, but, now, the question was...Did he want that understanding or not?

What, in the end, would it cost him?

Shaking aside the plaguing questions, Shinichi shoved away from the door and continued down the hall where he stopped before a pair of double doors. They weren't ornate, and didn't even seem imposing, and yet... He half wanted to shy away from them. Still, something told him, whether it was detective instincts or that nagging need to find the vampire, that this is where he'd been heading this entire time. Kind of like he'd just been stalling so he could avoid making the choice he would have to make.

Only, Shinichi realized as he tugged open one of the doors, he had no idea what that decision _was_.

Everything had been so _confusing_ lately, and he just didn't know where he stood anymore. It was like his entire world, packed neatly into a little box, had been shaken from the very foundations on up. Everything was disordered, nothing made sense anymore, and Shinichi wasn't sure how he could _make_ it make sense again.

Would forgetting all of this do it? Or, was the only way to set things right with himself to move forward?

Steadying himself, and drawing on that stubborn determination that had him solve every mystery he came up against in the past(Except that one, but thinking of that failure now wouldn't do him any good.), Shinichi stepped through the door. The room he entered wasn't anything like he'd been expecting it was... like a sort of sun room. An elegant chez lounge was settled across the room from him. It was devoid of the thick dust that had plagued the rest of the rooms. That was, at least, proof that this room was lived in.

However, the most prominent features were the huge bay windows facing east and west, the ceiling above was a skylight, and through the windows spilled the thick red orange glow of the setting sun. It turned the entire room fiery, tinted it all with that fading glow and a warning of how little time he truly had left.

What really drew the eye, though, was what was settled at the center of the room. There, on a central pedestal was a fist sized red stone. The vibrancy of the sunset set its facets alight, reflecting glancing red sparks from the smooth surface and sending them dancing across the room. The stone was not contained in a case, but, instead, sat atop its pedestal in a delicate looking gold stand.

From the jewel, Shinichi's eyes were drawn to the large painting behind it. It was, to be frank, an extremely eerie painting. The main focus was a woman with long, dark red hair. Her arms were hauled above her, wrists twisted in thorns, and her chest was open from the flesh down, bare breasts hanging to the sides in a macabre display. What was the strangest part, Shinichi felt, was the fact that her face didn't display any sort of pain. Her breast bone and ribs may have been splintered, her lungs and organs on display (and, Shinichi noted with a hint of unease, that she had no _heart_), but her face looked _covetous_. She stared directly out of the painting, her lips twisted in a come hither smile, and greed in her eyes.

All around her demons twisted and writhed, thorny vines crawling over her bare hips and disappearing along her pale thighs toward the bottom of the frame.

And, there, beneath the painting, and beneath its name plaque, there was something that drew Shinichi's attention. Stepping around the pedestal on which the ruby red gem was placed he moved closer to the painting. A shelf of sorts was suspended there, raised edges cradling a velvet lined interior over which a glass lid lay closed.

Briefly, Shinichi's attention paused on the brass nameplate, reading the title: _The Red Witch's Envy_.

Lowering his eyes further he peered through the glass at the object contained within: An athame who's blade was as black as the metal of its hilt. It wasn't ornate, or bejeweled, or anything special at first glance, though, as Shinichi lifted the lid on the case and picked the blade up by the hilt, he thought he saw the shape of some sort of runic writing glimmer on the surface of the flat side. Tilting it slightly in the slowly dying sunlight he watched light glance off the tip and slice along the double edges of the tapered blade.

Clenching his fingers around the leather wrapped hilt, Shinichi turned and faced the door he had, until now, ignored. Knuckles white, he strode purposely toward it and pulled it open without giving himself a chance to think about what he was doing.

Stepping slowly into the room he stood still, his eyes adjusting to the thick darkness, and his heart thumping double time in his chest. He was waiting, any second, for Kuroba to appear and... Well, he wasn't sure what would happen. His body, mind, _heart_ seemed to be torn in multiple directions of where that encounter could go.

It was pitch black here, no windows to let in even a sliver of light. The only illumination seeped in from the door Shinichi himself stood in, spilling across the floor and nearly reaching the foot of the large four poster bed standing in the center of it, headboard against the far wall. Though he could not tell the color of the bedding, it was dark and made the single figure laying in the middle of the bed stand out shockingly.

Kuroba looked the same as he'd seen him last, his suit jacket undone, and the rest of his clothing disarrayed. His face was pale, and the wild mess of his hair seemed to blend with the shadows and blankets. The vampire hadn't even bothered to slide beneath the covers, merely lay atop them on his back.

Creeping silently across the room, Shinichi came up alongside the bed and settled a knee onto the giving surface of the mattress. He was reminded, vividly, of his first night here when it was _Kuroba_ who had come creeping into his room, into his bed.

One of Kuroba's hands was laying on the pillow by his head, fingers curled in toward his palm. His chest did not rise and fall, though his lips were slack and parted and, Shinichi noted with a faint start, there was still a rusty stain on them. Shinichi startled when he realized he'd been reaching toward the vampire's face.

Pulling his hand forcefully back, he hadn't even realized he'd been reaching for the vampire, Shinichi adjusted his grip on the athame.

It was the right thing to do, wasn't it? The only way to end this was to make sure Kuroba was gone, and to do that... To do that he had to pierce him through the heart. It wasn't a wooden stake or anything, but it would work. He was sure of that.

And, yet, despite that, even as Shinichi raised his hand poised to plunge the blade toward the vampire's chest, his hand trembled with indecision. The choice shouldn't be hard, he should want Kuroba gone for everything the vampire had done to him. Enthralled him, bewitched him, changed him...

Shinichi stared at Kuroba's pale features, the way his messy fringe fell over his forehead, wisps of coarse ink dark hair curling against the lighter tone of his skin, and dark eyelashes resting on the upper curve of his cheekbones that held no healthy human flush... Even the strange stillness of him as he slept. It was... strangely enticing and a part of Shinichi merely wanted to lay down, curl up against the vampire's side and wait for him to wake.

His mind, the hunger that had been settled in his stomach for as long as he'd been conscious whispered to him of possibilities, and begged him to submit, to give in, and languish in the promises Kuroba had whispered to him.

He didn't know how long he sat there, poised to destroy Kuroba as he argued with himself, body and soul. All Shinichi knew was one moment he was staring at Kuroba's placid, sleeping face and the next he was looking into fathomless eyes that made his breathe hitch.

In the first few seconds of his waking, the vampire looked dazed and confused, weak, and the logical vicious part of Shinichi's mind that refused to bend to any of this screamed at him that now was his last chance to strike, but.. he just couldn't bring himself to do it. The next moment Kuroba had gotten a hold of himself, and taken stock of his surroundings. A stillness settled over the vampire, that slowly transformed into a smoldering anger that crawled beneath his pale skin like a living thing.

Kuroba's hand snapped up, closing around his wrist hard enough to make it ache. Shinichi didn't fight, merely turned his hand when Kuroba began putting pressure on it and willingly dropped the athame. It fell against the dark coverlet without a sound.

The expression on Kuroba's face scared him slightly. It was stillness and anger and such a deep seated fury that Shinichi nearly lost his nerve right then and there, almost began to struggle to get away. Something else, though, held him still. He couldn't say what it was for sure, and maybe he was just fooling himself, but he thought that he could see _betrayal_ and _pain_ in those gleaming eyes as well.

But, why? He was just another human, just another source of food for him wasn't he? This wasn't some stupid vampiric romance like those stories Ran's friend Sonoko seemed to find so amazing. He didn't feel anything for Kuroba beyond an intense lust, which was disconcerting in and of itself, yet, despite that he didn't like the way the vampire was looking at him.

The only warning Shinichi had was when Kuroba's grip tightened, then everything seemed to shift and, for a moment, he was confused before his back thumped against a wall, and his breath exploded from his lungs in a quick burst. Dizzy, Shinichi gasped for breath and watched the world tilt like he was on the deck of a ship. Shaking his head he was finally able to focus on Kuroba as the vampire slid off the bed and prowled toward him like a panther, all loose easy movement and predatory grace.

It was only then that Shinichi realized he'd been tossed across the room like a rag doll. He was slightly frightened by the fact that Kuroba's sheer _strength _hadn't registered until right then. Numbly, Shinichi was finally able to focus on the vampire looming over him.

"You," Kuroba hissed, and Shinichi could _hear_ the breath he didn't really need forcing its way passed Kuroba's clenched teeth. "You dare..."

Shinichi felt numb, cold, stupid, like he couldn't think, couldn't move, didn't know how to react. Part of him wanted to try and speak to Kuroba, talk him down, and tell him he wasn't _going_ to... but would he have, given the chance? Could he have struck, plunged the knife into Kuroba's chest and forced it down, somehow, through bone and muscle until he hit his heart?

Somehow, he didn't think he was capable of it.

Kuroba, lips curled into a snarl, lifted his hand, and Shinichi resigned himself to whatever he was about to do somehow sure that this was it. However, Kuroba merely pointed toward the door and growled, "Get out."

Despite himself, Shinichi found himself scrambling through the door, and into the jewel room which was now suffused in moonlight. His steps were immediately arrested as he saw the jewel, no longer did it sit simply in its golden stand it _glowed_ a beautiful, yet horrible, color. And, more than that _it pulsed, _a steady, rhythmic, beat... Like the beat of a heart, Shinichi realized with a subdued sense of dawning horror and realization. The light the jewel gave off pulsed with every throb leaving him mesmerized and a little shaken. It was easy to recall Kuroba's words from last night as he stared at it.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Kuroba's dark lilting voice whispered from behind him. There was an edge of restrained anger in it though, that made Shinichi flinch. "I tore it from her chest myself, that bitch who took everything from me with her petty greed and curses."

What could he say to that? There was no way to respond to such terrible vehemence, no way for Shinichi to say anything, because nothing could be said. Turning on his heel, not wanting to have Kuroba at his back, Shinichi's breath hitched in his chest at the terrifying picture the vampire created. Kuroba stood there, half in the doorway with the shadows thick over parts of him while the soft spread of moonlight seeping through the large windows of the jewel room cut a jagged highlight across the rest of him.

It was a moment where everything seemed possible, and nothing was impossible anymore. The supernatural was very real, standing there before him, staring at him, and angered by him. Shinichi had no idea what he'd done to garner Kuroba's attention, wasn't sure he should like the fact that he had– except that he _did_ like it, very much so, and now _craved_ for it like nothing else before in his _life _–but couldn't bring himself to care much anymore.

Anything resembling _caring_ seemed to have slipped off into that hazy part of his brain that didn't have any real influence over him anymore. After all, what was the point in caring when you were faced with something so world shaking? Something that shattered your perceptions of everything?

Kuroba's face was stone cold, his skin tight, and his fingers kept twitching in a way that told Shinichi that his temper was still very much in full force. It was, perhaps, far more terrifying than if the vampire had merely attacked him, raged, and been a monster. This quiet unknown made a fine trembling slide along his muscles that Shinichi didn't much like.

"I invited you in," Kuroba murmured at last, when it was obvious that Shinichi would not be responding. "Let you stay in my home, and offered you things most mortals would kill for, have killed for... and yet you seek to kill me."

Shinichi flinched, but remained quiet, edging toward the door ever so slightly. Right then, only one thing had dawned on him: He did not know what Kuroba would do now that his anger had been set off, and Shinichi's only worry was for Toyama and Hattori who were both unaware of what was happening.

He had to warn them.

Kuroba had promised, but... how far would the vampire take his word? Was it only a one time deal, or was it only for as long as Shinichi was complacent? Had he ever kept his word at all?

"I had hoped... Shouldn't have expected..." Kuroba's hands clenched into fists, his shoulders hunching and tightening and his eyes dark with a unreadable mess of emotion. "Get out! Leave. _Now_!"

The yelled words were enough to make Shinichi flee, like a startled deer, even before Kuroba lunged at him. Flying to the door, Shinichi threw himself out, but a last glance back only showed him Kuroba standing over the pedestal where the gem sat, caught between the contrasting glows of red and silver light. He didn't let that slow his pace, just pelted down the hall without further thought. The only thing on his mind right then was finding his friends, or, he guessed, perhaps that should be past tense considering how things had been going lately.

His path carried him back to the east wing, and down the hall to his room. The door stood open, and Shinichi, hoping against hope that they were still there, skidded to a halt and grabbed the door casing for balance. Panting slightly, disheveled and eyes slightly wild, Shinichi scanned the room and came up empty.

With a snarled curse he whirled away, and darted back down the hall to Hattori's room. Throwing the door open he was met with the same emptiness as his own. Another couple long strides brought him to the room Ran and Toyama had shared, and it was equally as abandoned as the others.

"Damn it, damn it...Hattori! Toyama?!"

Trying not to panic, and hoping that the two of them weren't dead– Shinichi wasn't completely convinced his conscience would be able to shoulder the guilt. –he paused, listening hard. A scream broke the stillness of the manor house, drifting up from below and, well used to hearing people scream, he didn't find it hard to identify it as feminine. The probable cause was easy to surmise, and Shinichi didn't waste another moment.

Darting back to the foyer he took the stairs downward, jumping down them, and nearly falling as he hit the second landing. As he rounded the corner and dashed across the second floor balcony, Shinichi glanced down. There, on the ground floor, was Toyama and Hattori. Hattori had the girl behind him, face twisted in a mask of shock and horror at something Shinichi couldn't see until he skidded around the top of the next stairs and began to descend them.

Creatures, he didn't know what to call them, were swarming out of the hall that lead back toward the dining room and sitting area, from the direction of the servants quarters. Long arms, elongated faces, hideous teeth and slanted, vicious eyes all set in a pale white body that rippled like smooth snake scales over lean muscles, with long reptilian tails curled in the air behind them. Tattered scraps of fabric that resembled the staffs uniforms made it well clear what they had been _before_.

Shinichi wondered if they were reacting to their master's anger.

They were surrounding the pair from Osaka and, as Shinichi neared the bottom, he yelled, "Duck!"

Hattori automatically dragged Toyama down, and Shinichi grabbed the banister, vaulting over it and kicking out, hard, with one leg. His foot connected with the side of the nearest creature's head, making it squeal and back away, hissing and shaking itself.

Stumbling as he landed, Shinichi fell to the floor, elbow cracking against the hard wood. Wincing, he hardly noticed Hattori hauling on his arm until the Osakan detective bellowed his name in his ear. Shaking off the eye watering pain, Shinichi allowed Hattori to help drag him back to his feet. Putting himself between the creatures and the two, he motioned them to back toward the door.

"Come on, we need to get out of here."

"I think that's kinda obvious, Kudou!" Hattori snarled.

With every step back that the group made, the keening, hissing creature's edged forward after them. Shinichi would put this down as one of the creepiest moments of his life. He didn't know what they were waiting for, or why they were waiting at all. It was like being cornered by a huge predator, knowing that if you ran you were likely to trigger something, some sort of chase instinct, but you wanted to run anyway. It was better to run, right?

Yet, the unwavering stare and attention made him wonder about that. And, much to his chagrin, there was still a great part, perhaps greater than the rest, that didn't want to run at all. A very large part of him wanted nothing more than to go back up there, and crawl into Kuroba's bed again.

Shaking off the thoughts, the almost physical _ache_ in his bones, Shinichi murmured, "Toyama, get the door."

As soon as he'd said the words he heard hurried footsteps as the girl turned and dashed the last few feet to the door, the heavy sound of a body hitting wood, and then the scrambling sound as she tried to get the door open. An exclamation of triumph heralded the doors opening, and Shinichi turned with Hattori. The two of them followed Toyama out of the manor house, Shinichi pausing to slam the door shut behind them, and darted down the front steps toward the car that sat, so distressingly normal, in the gravel drive.

Toyama and Hattori darted straight to it, yanking open the doors and prepared to get in, but Shinichi had slowed to a stop several feet away.

"Kudou-kun!" Toyama called. "Hurry up!"

Hattori stared at him, his expression an interesting mixture of understanding and perplexity. "Yer not comin' with us are you?"

Shinichi stared at them, face blank, and the grip of indecision slowly receding as the hunger, the _craving_ increased ten fold with the thought, the knowledge, that if he left now he'd never feel that white hot, overpowering, sensation again. He'd never find something like that again, he was sure of it, and... did he really want to, no... Shinichi realized with a sinking feeling it wasn't a matter of want anymore... _Could_ he give that up?

"Kudou-kun, if this is about Ran-chan I'm sure she's fine. Hakuba-kun really seemed to–"

Glancing up, confused at the way Toyama's words had cut off, Shinichi caught the end of Hattori shaking his head sharply at her. She was frowning at the other boy, but seemed to decide whatever the message was, this time, she would be quiet. Shinichi hadn't realized until now that his decision had been made for him long before now, long before he'd even confronted Kuroba in the vampire's room.

His decision had been made when he decided to ignore all sense after the first night and stay here.

"You two should leave."

Hattori nodded once, just a sharp downward jab of his chin, and asked, "What should I tell'em?"

Shrugging, and feeling for the first time in ages that old, arrogant, on top of the world grin sliding onto his face Shinichi said, "Tell them I'm dead."

For a long moment the two of them stared each other, and Shinichi thought that, maybe, Hattori understood. "Kazuha, let's go."

The girl looked confused, but that was probably for the best. Still she slid into the passenger seat of the car, even as Heiji ducked into the driver's side and started the engine. As it turned and rolled down the driveway, Shinichi tucked his hands in his pockets, posture loose and cool. With a feeling of detached emotion he watched the car until it reached the gates, the taillights a distant glow in the shadows of the night, and turned, perhaps, faster than it ought to be driving on these roads.

Once the glow of the car was lost to sight, Shinichi turned and looked back up at the looming front of the manor house. For all he knew he could be dead soon, he had no idea what the vampire's reaction would be, but Shinichi found that he wasn't scared. Life had been getting dull anyway, and, at least with this, he knew he'd chosen the path that had the highest possibility of giving him some satisfaction and contentment, if not making him happy.

He'd never liked the beach much anyway.

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

The car bumped and rattled down the road. Heiji was pushing it as fast as he could without making things insanely dangerous. Kazuha had curled into the front seat, her knees pulled up, and one of Heiji's jackets that she'd dug out from the back seat draped over her shoulders. She looked tired, and wan, her face buried against her arms and legs. Heiji didn't blame her, after what had just happened he kind of wanted to curl up too.

'Neechan was who knew where with that weird Hakuba guy, Kudou.... Kudou, well, he was gone. It was the guy's choice, and Heiji couldn't really understand it all together, but he could see enough to know that there was no turning back for his friend. He just hoped that Kudou would be alright. If he'd thought anything good would come of forcing Kudou to come with them he would have done it.

Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, the material creaked beneath his white knuckled fingers. Kudou had changed ever since he'd screwed up that chase, lost his drive, and that look on his face the last couple of days...

If an undead monster could bring Kudou back to life, then so be it. He just hoped 'Neechan could forgive him. Besides, Heiji was sure they'd all seen the signs...

Kudou was–

The thought abruptly terminated as Heiji slammed down the break pedal, staring in surprise at the two figures waiting placidly on the verge of the road, illuminated by the twin beams of headlights.

"Kazuha!" His friend looked up, blinking tiredly at him, and frowned when she noticed that they weren't moving. Before she could ask, though, Heiji asked his own question, "Am I seein' things... or?"

Kazuha turned her head, then squealed in surprised delight even as the two people hobbled toward them. The back door clicked open, and Hakuba helped Ran into the back seat even as he dryly commented, "Do you mind if I hitch a ride?" Heiji nodded in numb surprise, and Hakuba muttered sardonically, "Could you open the boot?" It was only then that Heiji noticed the blond had a large camping backpack with him, as well as a couple other things. He couldn't help but wonder how they'd carried all that when 'Neechan was obviously injured.

"Where's Shinichi?" Ran's soft voice broke through, immediately plummeting the atmosphere back into a cold grave. Kazuha looked away, and Heiji stared at the road.

Hands making the steering wheel creak again, Heiji said, flatly, "He's dead."

He almost didn't want to look at her, didn't know what his saying that would do, and noticed the rebellious look that was starting to fire up in Kazuha's eyes. He hoped that, for once, she would just keep her mouth shut. In the rear view mirror he could see Ran's face close off, then she simply leaned against the car door as Hakuba settled into the seat beside her. They both looked worse for wear than he and Kazuha.

Finally, Ran murmured, "Okay."

Heiji thought that, maybe, she understood better than even he did.

* * *

**Carpe Noctem: Complete**

* * *

**POST FIC NOTE: **I can hear it now. "What kind of ending is that?!" Well, it's the ending I planned since I started writing this, and I like it. And, yes, I realize I didn't directly answer, like, any questions besides the fact that yes, Hakuba's dad is dead, and, no, Kaito didn't kill him.

But, I did give enough clues through out the story that I think you can form a vague notion of what happened to Kaito, his parent's, and Aoko, and that's all I'm going to give on that for the moment. The truth behind it might be revealed at a later point, or it might not. It's just a matter of if I ever feel like it.

There is going to be more ficlets in this universe, in fact, there already are, though I haven't written any of them. I do have plans to write one someday when I have the time. However, if you want more Carpeverse stuff I suggest you watch my Livejournal as I probably won't be posting them on this site.

For more Carpe, and my Livejournal copy this link into your URLs: whm-koorii(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)45488(dot)html


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